


and I wake up falling

by lilacsoft



Category: RuPaul's Drag Race RPF
Genre: F/F, Lesbian AU, nineties dykes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-15
Updated: 2020-05-20
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:22:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 24,648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23663050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilacsoft/pseuds/lilacsoft
Summary: “Living above your workplace seems a terrible way to try to maintain any kind of distance between your work life and your home life,” Jan says from behind Jackie as they climb the stairs.What home life? Jackie wants to say, but that seems unkind to her cat.-they're all dykes who run a women's community center in the nineties. that's it, that's the fic.
Relationships: Jan Sport/Jackie Cox
Comments: 113
Kudos: 130





	1. Fall

**Author's Note:**

> Oh hey, it's my first fic for the fandom. Title nabbed from a boygenius song. I have no idea where this plot is going but it's a good time. Let me know if you want more. :-)

It’s not easy running the biggest women’s community centre in Brooklyn, but someone’s got to do it, and Jackie is glad it’s her and Nicky.

They do their best to be all things to all women. Tuesday mornings is mom-and-bub yoga. Self-defence classes run Wednesdays and Saturdays. There’s a creche that runs three days a week (Jackie hopes that they’ll be able to bump it up to four days in the next financial year, but funding grants are fickle beasts when it comes to women’s community groups). They collaborate with the local seniors centres as often as they are able, offering everything from craft sessions to morning teas. Every second Monday they host a drop-in legal clinic. Honestly, when Jackie lets herself stop and breathe, she knows she should be proud of what they have achieved. Nicky is constantly reminding her to not push herself too hard, to give herself a break and reward her for what they have achieved in the few years since they stepped in and took over to stop the place from closing. Jackie tries, she does her damn best to stop and bask for just a moment. But whenever she closes her eyes at night, in the dark of her quiet apartment with the cat snoozing on her chest, all she can think about is what work there is to be done. What they could be doing better.

Some days it’s really bad. Nicky will find Jackie in whatever quiet nook she can locate in the perpetually rowdy building, with one arm wrapped around her middle and the other hand clutching at her third long black of the day. All business until the last moment, Nicky will remove Jackie’s glasses with brusque French efficiency, and with gentle fingertips press in at her temples until Jackie lets her eyes fall shut. “What is keeping you awake now, hmm?”

This week, it’s their youth programme, which currently has nobody at its helm. For the last two years they had been blessed with Brita as the youth programme coordinator, whose effervescence won over even the most reluctant children, and who was able to run a myriad of kids classes with seemingly zero effort alongside her part-time teaching gig at Tisch. But the new semester brought a full-time contract for Brita, and although that was incredible news and both Jackie and Nicky were over the moon for her, it all happened so fast that they hadn’t managed to have any kind of crossover of staffing. For the last fortnight the classes have been shuffled between their core team, and it hasn’t been easy. Arts and crafts with the little ones is one thing, but the thought of having to sub in for one more hour of pre-teen dance makes Jackie want to die. These kids deserve the best, and for both her and Nicky, their dancing is far from the best. They are struggling to fill Brita’s spot, which is honestly understandable - it’s a sizeable time commitment, they aren’t able to pay very well, and they want a medium to long term guarantee, which is understandably tricky for arts freelancers who are always searching for their next big break. It’s tough. Jackie gets it. But understanding doesn’t mean it stresses her out any less. They have been looking at splitting the classes up between facilitators, but that wasn’t in their budget, so the only way they would be able to do that would be to potentially pull a few classes, and neither she nor Nicky want to start playing favourites. Kids rely on each and every one of those classes. It’s a nightmare.

When Nicky comes looking for her today, Jackie is perched on a stack of yoga mats on the second floor. Jackie knows Nicky is just as exhausted as she is, but somehow she always manages to look absolutely unbothered and completely untouchable despite the telltale dark circles beneath her eyes. Today, Nicky is smiling, and Jackie eyes her suspiciously, taking a sip from her mug. They have a ridiculous quantity of lumpy handmade mugs in their kitchenette from all the beginners pottery classes they have hosted over the years. Today’s is a mottled mint green with “GRACIELA” painted in a child’s crooked hand on the side. 

“Quick,” Nicky beckons, and Jackie stands abruptly, although Nicky is still grinning so it can’t be a bad emergency. “Brita’s on the phone for us. She’s got good news.”

They share an office, although it’s more of a glorified closet - two desks pushed up against one another, papers stacked on every possible surface. It drove Jackie mad the first couple of months to share an office with the chronically messy Nicky, but then the centre got too busy for them to even notice. Somehow Jackie has gotten used to it, and even though it looks disorganised there is a vague system. She still knows where (almost) everything is, even if it takes her a little while to find it sometimes.

Brita’s news isn’t just good, it’s potentially brilliant. “I taught her a couple of years ago, so I can definitely vouch for her. She actually got in touch with _me_ because she didn’t know I’d moved on, and was looking for some work.”

“Casual work?” Jackie asks worriedly, teeth scraping at the edge of her thumb. Nicky’s leaning against the edge of her desk but twisted around so she can hunch almost directly on top of the landline, where they’ve put Brita on speaker.

“She’s doing her masters part-time, so it will be at least for a couple of years. That’s why I thought it was a perfect fit for you guys, you’ll get some time out of her before she moves on.” There’s a pause, and Jackie and Nicky watch each other, neither of them wanting to be the one to say yes, but knowing they are running out of choices by this point. “I wouldn’t have recommended her if I didn’t think she was going to do good for you and the centre.” Jackie huffs out a laugh. Brita knows them well.

“Okay. Okay, well, I guess we should pull her in for a trial class then,” Jackie says, and turns to look at the wall planner they’ve got tacked to the space above their desks. “Any chance we could get her in to cover for the kinder-dance I’m supposed to take this afternoon?”

Brita lets out a sharp laugh, and it makes Jackie smile. She misses having Brita’s energy around the centre. “Leave it with me, I’ll give her a call now. I guarantee she’ll be there. She wants this bad.”

The office feels bigger once Brita has hung up, deprived of the woman’s ability to fill a room with warmth using only her voice. Nicky rubs her eyes and grins blearily across at Jackie. “How much are you hoping on this working out so you never have to take a dance class again?”

“So, so much,” Jackie admits, matching her grin and trying to relax her shoulders. New people bring new, good opportunities, she reminds herself. The centre isn’t just her baby, it belongs to the community. Brita cares about this place as much as she does. She wouldn’t do them dirty on a recommendation.

“Girl, come on. Relax,” Nicky says pointedly, and Jackie rolls her eyes.

“Alright, alright. I’ve got a meeting, see you at two thirty?”

“It’s a date.” Jackie gives her an affectionate push on the shoulder as she left the room. They’d tried to date, once, in grad school, when they’d first met and realised how much their views aligned. It had lasted all of two weeks. Turns out they were much better business partners than anything romantic. Jackie prefers it this way, anyway. She’s never been much good at dating.

-

The foyer of the centre is more of an anything-goes area, big enough to host story time sessions or to turn into a makeshift gallery for parents to come fawn over the tie-dye and macrame their kids make at holiday clubs. On a regular Monday afternoon it’s fairly empty, the calm before the after school storm, and Jackie’s fingers are itching for a cup of tea. Brita had called back to say that her new recruit was keen, which despite her nerves was an overwhelming relief. Getting a recommendation, if it worked out, was far easier than attempting the recruitment process. Nicky was far more optimistic about Brita’s girl than Jackie was, but as she chewed at the edge of her thumbnail, she vowed to keep those concerns to herself.

“Hey,” Nicky mutters, knocking her thumb away from her mouth and gesturing with her chin towards the entrance. A woman was hauling open one of the ancient glass doors, and Jackie knew in a heartbeat it was her. “Why do all musical theatre grads look the same?” Nicky says under her breath, and Jackie bites her lip to stop her from laughing. Nicky was right, she was instantly recognisable as one of Brita’s cohort.

She was also distractingly hot.

 _Fuck_.

To say that dating wasn’t a priority for Jackie was an understatement. She was closeted in high school so that was out of the question, then had dabbled in college, but nothing really stuck. Since then she had been too busy with work, something that Nicky occasionally ribbed her for, although Nicky’s serial one-time hook-ups was hardly much in comparison. Neither of them had bothered much with pursuing relationships. Jackie was mostly fine with it - her work kept her _too_ occupied, she had a good group of friends, and of course, the cat. But sometimes, two and a half glasses into a Sauvignon Blanc, she would quietly pine for companionship, a bit of romance. A woman to wrap her arms around at night. There’s nothing wrong with wanting that, she tells herself sternly, but now just isn’t the time - she’s got too much on.

She reminds herself of this now, when the woman sees them and her face lights up in a beaming smile. “Hi! I’m Jan!” She is taller than Jackie, although that wouldn’t be hard, with blonde glossy hair like the girls who wouldn’t speak to Jackie in high school. Really, she’s beautiful in that same dreamy all-American way, perfect teeth and bright eyes. Fortunately she’s dressed sensibly for teaching, in patterned leggings with an oversized lavender t-shirt, although the glittery jelly sandals are an interesting touch. As she comes closer, Jackie notices there is matching lavender glitter on her eyelids. Once upon a time she would have been intimidated by women who look like this, feeling like too much of a plain dyke to hold her own in social interaction. Jackie knows she is smart, and funny, but she hasn’t touched her eyebrows since she was a high school junior, and sometimes, in the presence of a pretty girl, she remembers this and feels weird, uncomfortable in her skin, _too_ dykey. But she’s a professional, and so she smiles, stepping forward with Nicky at her side and holding out her hand.

“Hi Jan, I’m Jackie, and this is my co-director Nicky. Welcome to Prospect Women’s Community Centre.” Jan took her hand with a strong grip that belied the softness of her palm, and Jackie swallowed thickly, forgetting what was a normal timeframe to shake a woman’s hand. Luckily Jan didn’t seem to have the same dilemma, and quickly moved onto shake Nicky’s hand, all the while thanking them profusely for seeing her at such short notice.

“Honestly, thank you for coming,” Nicky is saying, “we have been trying to cover Brita’s classes, but between us, we can’t quite hit the spot like she could. Jackie looked like she could have kissed Brita through the phone when she said you could cover her dance class this afternoon.” Jackie felt a blush edge up her neck to her cheeks, but Jan was laughing, so it was hard not to join in.

“Come take a seat, and we can run through the schedule for you. Would you like a drink? Tea?”

Jan eases into the sofa across from her, and crosses her legs. “Just water would be great, thanks.”

“I’ll get them,” Nicky offers, starting to head for the kitchenette. “Tea, Jackie?”

“Please,” Jackie says weakly, and when she meets Jan’s eyes, the woman is smiling again.

“Thank you, really. I don’t want to come off as too earnest or anything, but this is such a great opportunity for me. When Brita mentioned that you had a vacancy, I couldn’t believe my luck.”

“You were one of Brita’s students, right?” Jackie asks, shuffling through her papers to lay them out flat on the coffee table between them. Jan nods enthusiastically.

“Yeah, class of ’94. She’s so great. I’m back at school now though, I’m studying Arts Ed part-time.”

“Life on the stage not quite as glamorous as you’d hoped?” Jackie asked, and cringed inwardly. It was a recurring problem where things she said sounded meaner than she’d intended. Fortunately, Jan laughed.

“Something like that, yeah.” Nicky reappears, pushing a lumpy mug decorated with daisies into her hands with a knowing smile, and Jackie clears her throat.

“Right, so. Shall we get started?”

-

Jan is… a natural. The kids love her. The parents love her. Jackie, watching her class from the doorway, thinks she might love her too.

“You’ve gotta hold onto this one,” Latrice, one of the moms, tells her near the end of class. The centre has had three of Latrice’s daughters come through their kids club, and her youngest, Jessie, is currently grinning ear to ear after being praised by Jan for her cartwheel. “She’s a keeper.” 

“Isn’t she just,” Jackie murmurs, and something long-neglected in her chest starts to unravel. She waits around after class, watches Jan thanking the parents and waving to the kids, before she approaches. Jan is pink with exertion, a little shorter now she’s kicked off her tacky sandals in favour of bare feet, and still very, very beautiful.

“The kids seem great!” Jan says before Jackie can open her mouth, and takes a long drink from her water bottle. Jackie is hypnotised by the slow arc of her throat as she swallows once, twice, three times.

“They’re a good bunch,” Jackie says quickly, “and I think probably relieved to have a good instructor after Nicky and I have been fumbling our way through it these past few weeks.”

Jan laughs. “Oh really? Dancing not your forté?”

“I need a fair few glasses of wine to believe I’m capable of anything more than a shuffle, so not really in a teaching capacity, no. I did theatre in school, and always somehow ended up at the back from the dance numbers, so make of that what you will.” She pauses, watching as Jan pulls her hair free of its ponytail and starts to comb her fingers through it, working out the kinks. “You were great, Jan. I know I speak for both Nicky and myself when I say that we’d be very happy for you to pick up all of Brita’s classes, and become a permanent fixture.”

Jan stops, her eyes wide, and presses one hand to her chest in true theatre grad style. “Oh my god, thank you Jackie. Really, thank you. This means the world.” She makes an abrupt movement, then stops, arms half raised, and laughs. Jackie has no idea what she’s doing. “Can I— like, is it inappropriate to hug you? Sorry, I’m just so happy. Is that unprofessional? This is— wow, this is just so great.”

Jackie feels her cheeks heat up, but she’s laughing too, and tentatively opens her arms. “No, that’s fine. We aren’t much about ultra professionalism here, Nicky’s always hauling me around.” Jan wraps her arms around her in a flurry of movement, holds her close and she can _feel_ joy radiating through the other woman. Some of Jan’s hair, now loose around her shoulders, falls against Jackie’s face, and it smells faintly of roses. It’s dizzying.

“I can uh, process all the info tonight, and the next time you’re in we’ll have a contract for you to sign?” Jackie says, rushed, as Jan pulls away. “Or I can fax it to you, if you’d prefer. You’ll be paid for today’s class, of course.”

“Bold of you to assume I have access to a fax machine. Whenever is fine, I trust you and Nicky not to screw me over.” Jan kneels to buckle her feet into her sandals, and when she stands, she slings her bag over her shoulders, and considers Jackie for a moment. The back of Jackie’s neck prickles. _What does she know?_

“I actually have some time to kill before my evening class,” she says, searching Jackie’s face, but Jackie feels completely paralysed by what she knows is coming. “I was gonna hole myself up in a cafe somewhere and try to get some study done, but, well. Do you want to grab a coffee or something?”

Coffee. With Jan. Jan wants to get a coffee. Jackie’s brain is sheer white noise. “That, uh. Yeah, coffee sounds great.”

“I’m not pulling you away from work, am I?” Jan asks, sounding worried, and Jackie shakes her head.

“Nope, all good. I opened this morning so Nicky’s got the rest of the afternoon covered.” Usually that makes no difference, and Jackie would continue to work on through until Nicky pries her pen from her hand and locks her out of their office. But there’s a first time for everything, and today Jackie is finishing on time, apparently.

“Alright, great! Well, I don’t know the area super well, so if you know somewhere that’s good, then lead the way.” Jackie hesitates, and Jan notices. She is too observant for Jackie’s comfort levels. “What’s up?”

“I actually— well, I live upstairs. And I have a French press. If you’re not allergic to cats, why don’t we— I mean, we could just go up there. Save us traipsing around to find a cafe.”

“I’m not allergic to cats,” Jan says quickly, “wait— you live _upstairs_?”

Jackie shrugs, holding the studio door open, and as Jan brushes past her she catches another waft of rose. Her heart pounds in her ears. Christ, how is she twenty nine and still losing her mind over the smell of a girl’s shampoo? “It’s a long story. Here, we have to go back out on the street to get up.”

The door up to Jackie’s apartment is a scuffed navy blue one to the left of the big double doors for the centre. Jan stands slightly too close to her while she digs in her pocket for her key, making her fingers fumble with the lock. Jackie has no doubt that Jan notices, but thankfully, she doesn’t say anything.

“Living above your workplace seems a terrible way to try to maintain any kind of distance between your work life and your home life,” Jan says from behind Jackie as they climb the stairs.

 _What home life?_ Jackie wants to say, but that seems unkind to her cat. “I’m the first to admit I’m a bit of a workaholic,” she says instead, out of breath as they reach her apartment door. “This job is… it’s very easy for it to eat into all of your time. But I don’t mind. It’s worth it.” She slides her key into the lock, and as the door clicks open, she glances back. Jan is smiling but it’s different, softer. There’s an edge of vulnerability that Jackie hasn’t seen before.

“You care a lot about this place, huh.”

“Yeah,” Jackie says quietly, and her mouth feels dry. “Yeah, I really do.” She lets the door swing open. “Come on in.”

Thankfully Jackie makes up for her lack of office organisation by being meticulous with neatness in her home, so the apartment is fine for visitors. They are greeted by a demanding yowl, and a large, long-haired calico cat jumps down from the kitchen counter and starts winding her way around Jackie’s legs.

“Who is this?” Jan whispers delightedly, utterly entranced, and Jackie bends to scoop the cat up.

“This is Mabel,” she says, cradling her like a baby. Jan reaches forward to scratch her under the chin, and Mabel starts purring like a tractor.

“She likes me!”

Jackie doesn’t tell her that Mabel is a huge tart who loves everyone who has ever set foot in this apartment. “Do you want to take her? I’ll put coffee on for us.” With gentle hands, Jan scoops Mabel out of Jackie’s arms, and holds her to her chest. Mabel clumsily butts her head against Jan’s chin, and Jan looks like she’s found God. It’s ridiculously endearing.

“So is it just a coincidence that you live above your workplace?” Jackie shakes her head, searching in the refrigerator for her bag of coffee grounds. She is glad she splurged on the expensive stuff this week.

“No, it’s actually part of our lease. Like, it’s incorporated into the centre. It made sense that one of us lived here, for security, you know. Someone to make sure the trash goes out on the right days, nobody is causing trouble to the building at night. When we were arranging takeover of the centre I was coming to the end of my lease anyway, and Nicky owns her place, so it made sense that I moved in.” When she turns around, Jan is studying one of her prints on the wall, Mabel still curled contentedly at her chest. She turns, an imminent joke on her lips, and catches Jackie watching her. There is definitely a moment that passes between them. Jackie blindly peels open her coffee grounds, and spills a little on the counter.

“Nicky owns her apartment? In this economy? On that salary?” Jan asks teasingly, swaying a little as if Mabel is a baby she is rocking to sleep. “Not to imply you’re struggling or anything, but I know full well that this sector is chronically underfunded.”

“What about my two room walk-up that is technically on my work lease suggests to you that I’m not able to buy an apartment?” Jackie asks dryly, filling the kettle and lighting the stove, and Jan lets out another one of her distinctly joyful laughs. “Nicky comes from money. Her story is pretty interesting, I’ll let her tell it sometime, but her mom is this famous sociology academic in France. Her dad does some big business gig here in the States, but she doesn’t really have much to do with him. So there’s money, but it’s kind of erratic. Her mom will occasionally send us a cheque for the centre, but not for any particular thing, or on a schedule or anything, and of course we don’t want to rely on those sorts of donations.” She wipes up the coffee grounds she spilled, trying to keep her hands busy so the reality of Jan being in her apartment doesn’t catch up to her. “We were actually able to take over the centre, stop it from closing, with a grant from her mom. She’s a pretty cool lady, just, you know. Absent, flaky, whatever.”

“It’s amazing that you were able to save it,” Jan says, and when Jackie _finally_ looks at her, the soft fondness of her mouth hits her like a juggernaut. “Places like this change women’s lives. Getting to be just a small part of what you’ve cultivated here means the world, Jackie.” Jackie was unprepared for this level of earnestness, but she is coming to realise that this is Jan’s thing - unbridled, enthusiastic earnestness. She doesn’t think she’s met someone so genuine in her life. It’s beautiful, and also terrifying. Jackie feels impossibly exposed.

She is saved from having to respond by the shrill whistle of the kettle, and busies herself over the stove while she forces herself to take a deep breath to try to stop the tremble in her hands. When she turns back to pour the boiling water into the press, Jan has wandered over to her bookshelf, examining the spines. Jackie can hear Mabel’s raspy purr from here. 

“A lot of plays here,” Jan says, not turning around. “Did you say you did theatre in college?”

“I took it as a minor. My major was in Women’s Studies.”

“Should’ve guessed. I also noticed your collection of Adrienne Rich,” Jan turns back to wink at her, grinning, and Jackie lets out a sharp laugh.

“Sorry if you were hoping that a woman who lives above the women’s centre she runs was anything but a big dyke stereotype,” she jokes, but her heart is pounding in her chest. It’s not like it’s a secret, most people at the centre have figured it out, and she’s managed to slowly chip away at any barriers community members might have had with the work she has done. But outing herself is never not exhausting, especially when there is a girl who she would very much like to kiss standing in her tiny apartment. _Maybe I’ve been reading it wrong_ , Jackie thinks, _maybe she’s straight, maybe—._

“Honestly, our bookshelves look pretty similar,” Jan says pointedly, that same little earnest smile playing across her lips. “So I guess we are both playing into the stereotype.”

 _Right. That’s— right._ Turns out Jackie wasn’t reading it wrong. Now she has had that confirmed, she doesn’t know what to do with this information. “There’s nothing wrong with that,” she manages. She thinks of Jan at home, shoes kicked off and legs dangling over the arm of some garishly pattered armchair, flaxen hair loose around her shoulders with a copy of _Blood, Bread, and Poetry_ open in her lap. It’s A Lot. Jan is pretty, and smart, and funny, and painfully honest, and well-read, and a _lesbian_. Jackie is an absolute goner.

“Do you take sugar?”

“Four, please,” Jan chirps, and Jackie pulls a face.

“That’s repulsive.”

“Let me have my vices,” Jan says petulantly, and it’s impossible for Jackie to bite back her laugh.

They sit on either side of the sofa, Mabel stretched out between them, sipping their steaming mugs of coffee and talking. Jan is a constant stream of bubbly anecdotes, but she’s a good listener too, and asks questions like nobody Jackie’s met before. She learns that Jan is the youngest of eight (big Catholic family), shares an apartment with two friends from college, works as a camp counsellor every summer, and is a Gemini.

“I can’t believe you’re an Aries,” Jan says, outraged, tucking one of her knees under her chin. The soles of her feet are a dusty pink, several shades darker than the rest of her skin, and look soft to touch. 

“Would you not have accepted the job if you knew you’d be working for an Aries?” Jackie thinks horoscopes are bullshit, but seeing Jan scandalised is too funny to resist.

“I would’ve put a bit more thought into it, yeah!”

The light is starting to fade outside when Jan checks her watch. “Shoot, I’ve gotta run if I’m gonna make my class.”

“ _Shoot_?” Jackie says offhandedly, raising an eyebrow, and Jan laughs, toeing on her sandals.

“You can take the girl out of Catholic school, Jackie.” She is a model guest, giving Mabel one last kiss goodbye and insisting on washing up her mug, despite Jackie’s protests. She is starting to feel awkward, the comfort of the past hour wearing off as she realises she has no idea what the protocol is on saying goodbye.

“So, I’ll have your contract ready for you when you come in to teach on Wednesday,” Jackie says, and Jan looks a little startled by her formality.

“Sure, that’s teens drama right? Sounds great.”

“Yeah, great,” Jackie echoes, hanging awkwardly by the kitchen counter as Jan searches through her bag, pulling out a walkman.

“Thank you so much for the coffee, this has been really fun. Really, Jackie,” Jan stresses the last part, and Jackie feels like there’s something being hinted there, but she doesn’t know what.

“Oh, it was nothing. I had fun. Maybe we could do it again sometime,” she finishes lamely, and Jan smiles beautifully at her.

“Absolutely.”

The apartment feels bigger than ever when Jan’s gone. Mabel meows crankily, rubbing herself along Jackie’s ankles until she shakes herself from her thoughts and picks her up.

“Well, fuck,” Jackie says aloud, “was that a date?” Mabel yawns in her face in response.

She passes the rest of the evening in a daze - feeds the cat, takes a long shower, tries to work on a grant application but continuously loses focus until she throws her pen down with such aggravation that Mabel saltily gets up from her desk and leaves her in favour of sitting in the kitchen sink. Realistically, she just does not have time for this, she tells herself over and over. She is thirty next year, and runs the most comprehensive women’s centre in Brooklyn, she _cannot_ afford to waste time crushing on a girl. But Jan is— different. She makes Jackie feel warm. It’s dizzying and scary and more than anything, it feels _good_. And she has no idea what to do about it.

Jackie groans and scrubs at her face. “You dumb lesbian,” she mutters, and pours herself a glass of wine, and takes it to bed. It’s been a long day.


	2. Winter (i)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Stay here tonight,” Jackie says softly, without thinking, and watches Jan’s hands freeze at their work, fabric held taut between her still fingers. “It’s late,” Jackie adds, and usually she would be nervous, but they’ve been listening to the same carols tape for hours, and in the lamplight Jan’s hair looks golden. They’ve been so close for so long that Jackie aches with it, she is stone cold sober but feels drunk with longing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we go again! Thank you SO much for all your lovely comments, they made me so happy. This is a lotta fun to write so hearing you folks like it too is just the best.

Jackie loves winter. She tries to keep quiet about it because she knows winter brings about some of the greatest hardships in a city where many don’t have reliable transport or heat, and she sees that every day at work. But she can’t help it. She loves breathing in the icy air on crisp mornings, and how the evenings feel dewy and blurred as headlights flood the drizzly streets. The snow can be a pain but she can’t help it, she still thinks it’s beautiful. And there’s something understatedly beautiful about winter clothing too, the inherently utilitarian nature of it giving Jackie thrills as she folds herself into soft woollen jumpers in the lamplight of her apartment, or flicks up the collar of her navy corduroy coat against the wind. She has never been overly invested in fashion, but in winter she wears mustards and deep reds, layers of it underneath her navy jacket, the rich colours making her feel secretly decadent. Bundling up against the cold, but standing outside to breathe it in anyway - it grounds her. And even though she is quiet about it, she still lets herself lean into it. Jackie works hard, and winter is nice. Simple pleasures, or something like that.

Three weeks out from Christmas, and the sun is only just starting to rise as Jackie buries her hands in her pockets, allowing herself a leisurely walk to the bodega. She’s not due to open the centre for another half hour, so she is taking her time, enjoying the cold morning air stinging at her cheeks. They’re running low on milk so she grabs a couple of cartons, and even though she could make coffee when she gets to work, she decides to treat herself, and orders one to warm her hands for the walk back.

She is rounding the corner to her street when she sees a familiar figure jostling on the spot out the front of her door. Things between her and Jan are good. This is what she tells Nicky, at least, when Nicky _finally_ got her to admit, after weeks of needling, that there was, maybe, a “thing” between them. They haven’t discussed it, but they have settled into an easy companionship. What continually surprises Jackie is the limitless nature of Jan’s generosity and positivity. Realistically she is only at the centre three days a week, but it’s always more than that. If anything needs doing around the centre - help with fundraising, a class being covered, a backlog of admin - Jan is always volunteering her time. DIY seems to be her downfall, which she is the first to admit with a self-deprecating grin. When one of the bathroom taps came off in Nicky’s hand last month, Jan immediately recommended one of her housemates, Crystal, a theatre set designer by trade who happens to be incredibly handy, while sporting the most incredible mullet Jackie has laid eyes on in all her years frequenting dyke bars. Crystal ended up being a lifesaver. Sweet-natured, efficient, and grateful for the extra cash, they have ended up getting her in to do a bunch of odd jobs they had been putting off, making her the unofficial Prospect Centre handywoman. Unless Jan has class she usually tags along on these days, handing Crystal tools and keeping her company while she tinkers, perched on the edge of sinks or cabinets or wherever she can kick her legs while she chatters and laughs.

Jan spends a considerable amount of time in Jackie’s apartment, and only sometimes they are there together. After catching Jan one too many times trying to study in noisy, awkward spaces in the centre between her teaching gig and her night classes, Jackie started pushing her keys into Jan’s protesting hands and telling her to use her apartment to study. “To keep Mabel company, if you won’t do it for yourself,” Jackie tells her stubbornly, and that always gets Jan to relent. It’s a practical solution, Jackie reminds herself. After all, Jan can’t study in the centre, it’s too chaotic and unpredictable. And Mabel does get lonely.

“What about Jackie, does Jackie get lonely?” Nicky grins when Jackie relays this to her. Jackie flushes, turning away to rummage in her desk drawer for an invoice.

“It’s not funny,” she mumbles, trying to make out her own scrawled handwriting so she can tell if she’s paid it or not. The last thing she needs is accounts chasing her up just before Christmas.

“I’m not joking,” Nicky says, and the laughter is gone from her voice. When Jackie dares to look up, Nicky is watching her with careful, scrutinising eyes that makes Jackie want to squirm. The reality of being known by someone is something that Jackie will never be completely comfortable with. “Jackie—”

“Don’t,” she says quickly, “Nicky, please.” Nicky’s gaze has turned softer, which is even worse. She can deal with Nicky teasing her or being her usual unemotional, practical self, but not this. Jackie refuses to be pitied.

“Maybe you need to talk about it.”

“Well, if I decide that, you will be the first to know,” Jackie says brusquely, hands trembling as she shoves her drawer closed. “But I don’t. Want to talk about it. Besides, there’s nothing— you know. It’s just Jan.”

“And she’s just keeping Mabel company,” Nicky drawls. One of her worst habits is her inability to let anything go in the heat of the moment.

“ _Yes,_ ” Jackie says through gritted teeth. She sweeps out of the office abruptly in a manner which is absolutely overdramatic, and spends the afternoon on her knees in the yoga studio, scraping grime off the ancient skirting boards until her back aches. When she goes home later her apartment is warm, filled with with light and noise, Mabel sprawled like a queen over Jan’s textbooks while Jan sings along to _Jagged Little Pill_ and pesters Jackie to look over her paper for grammar mistakes until Jackie gives in, laughing. She and Nicky don’t mention their semi-argument, acting the next day like nothing happened, except for the expensive sugary brioche Nicky leaves on her desk for her.

That was a week ago. Now, with her string bag of milk cartons digging into her shoulder, she can’t help but smile as Jan spots her and waves enthusiastically. “You’re ridiculously early,” she calls out as she draws closer.

“What can I say, I can’t stay away from the place,” Jan grins, and the brave little spark that burns in Jackie’s chest knows that she is only semi-joking. “I wanted to get a run in before work, but I finished earlier than planned. Too cold.” She cups her hands in front of her mouth and blows on them, a futile attempt to warm them up. Now Jackie is closer she can see she isn’t dressed for the December chill, her usual leggings under gym shorts not doing anything to keep the cold out. Her nose and cheeks are pink, Jackie assumes from a combination of her run and the cold, and she’s shivering, the hood of her tracksuit top pulled over her blonde ponytail. She’s beautiful.

As Jackie starts the familiar routine of feeling each of her pockets for her keys, Jan crowds closer in an obvious attempt to leech off her body heat. “Are you cold or something?” Jackie asks dryly, her heart thumping at the proximity as she hands over her coffee cup to hold. Jan makes a pleased noise at the back of her throat as she brackets the cup with her pink, trembling fingers, and Jackie suddenly can’t feel the cold at all.

When they’re inside, Jackie disappears into the utility room to switch on the heat, and upon her return she catches Jan curled on the sofa, halfway through a sip of her coffee.

“This is disgusting,” she informs Jackie, nose crinkled in distaste.

“I don’t recall offering you a sip, actually.”

“ _Actually_ , this is awful. How do you even drink it when it’s this bitter?”

“It’s just the coffee you’re tasting,” Jackie says, bemused, as she starts switching on the lights. Jan jumps up immediately to help, thrusting her coffee cup back towards her. “You only think it’s bitter because you’re not used to the taste of coffee without half a tonne of sugar masking it.”

“People drink coffee for the caffeine and because it’s warm, not for the taste. The sugar is like a helping hand. Giving the coffee a leg up.”

Jackie laughs. “I just don’t think that’s true. Like, at all.” She checks her watch, and it’s almost 7:30. It’s a creche day today, meaning Heidi will be there soon to set up. Jan is fussing with something in her bag, having apparently moved on from their coffee related argument, and Jackie watches her, captivated by the motion of her hands shoving her oversized hoodie sleeves up to expose her pale wrists. “What have you got this morning?”

“Toddler dance at nine.” Jackie knows the schedule off by heart so she knows this, but she doesn’t want them to stop talking. “I was gonna take a shower and maybe get in a little study before I have to teach.”

“Sure,” Jackie says, “sounds like a plan,” and digs in her pocket for her house keys, tossing them across the room. Jan catches them effortlessly. She doesn’t know why but she finds Jan’s easy athleticism endlessly entertaining (and hot). Dance is one thing, but Jan seems to accumulate hobbies like nobody Jackie has met before, and that includes soccer, basketball, and apparently ice hockey. Jan keeps inviting her to watch her hockey games, but she doesn’t know how she’d watch Jan out there on the ice without having a nervous breakdown. Soccer seems a safer bet.

Jan grabs her bag and slings it over her shoulder. “You’re an angel, Jacqueline. I’ll give my best gal Mabel a smooch for you.”

“That’d better be a promise.” Jackie’s mouth is dry. It’s easier to think when Jan heads upstairs, but the room feels chillier even as the ancient radiator gives a groan which signals the central heating has started to kick in. She takes a sip of her coffee, and it’s still hot, but the lid tastes like Jan’s chamomile lip balm. She closes her eyes, heart pounding in her chest, and tries desperately not to think about Jan, upstairs in her apartment, using her shower.

-

Around this time of year it always feels like the days are going too fast to keep up with them. The 22nd is their annual Christmas party, the biggest event on their calendar. There are carols and food and Jackie and Nicky always do their best to involve as many other community groups as possible. They know they are in a fortunate position to receive the funding they do - although sporadic, it’s much more than what some of their other local groups subsist on. Christmas is never a big deal for neither Jackie nor Nicky, with neither of them going home for any big family celebration, so even though it’s a lot of work, they both feel like it’s a valuable use of their time.

Quite early on in planning, Jackie learns that Jan _loves_ Christmas. Knowing Jan’s enthusiasm for any kind of social activity, it shouldn’t be surprising. Despite the fact that Jackie knows it’s a busy time of year for her with schoolwork, Jan decides that their usual tinsel isn’t enough, and enlists the help of Yvie, their sometimes pottery-and-crafts instructor, to sew festive bunting. They spend entire afternoons set up in the centre sewing swathes of garish tartan and hideous candy cane print into triangles, their combined laughter echoing off the scuffed linoleum floors. On the evening of the 21st, Jan sits for hours at Jackie’s dining table finishing the off the hems, while Jackie sits across from her finalising the guest list, pausing only to make them each a decadent supper of grilled cheese sandwiches.

When Jackie sets the plate down in front of her, Jan pauses briefly, looking up from her work to tip her head back and smile up at her. Jan’s handiwork isn’t as precise as Yvie’s, but her wonky stitches are obscured by the chaotic prints, and it doesn’t matter anyway. As Jan leans into Jackie, pressing a brief, chaste kiss of thanks to her arm before hunching over her machine once more, Jackie is blown away once more by how much heart Jan puts into every single thing she does. “Stay here tonight,” Jackie says softly, without thinking, and watches Jan’s hands freeze at their work, fabric held taut between her still fingers. “It’s late,” Jackie adds, and usually she would be nervous, but they’ve been listening to the same carols tape for hours, and in the lamplight Jan’s hair looks golden. They’ve been so close for so long that Jackie aches with it, she is stone cold sober but feels drunk with longing.

Jan looks up at her, and slowly, a smile spreads across her face. “Sure.” She’s beautiful. Jackie takes this moment and commits it to memory, then turns and busies herself with her papers on the sofa again. At some point the steady noise of Jan’s sewing machine and crackly old carols lulls her to sleep, because she only closes her eyes for a moment, it’s dark. There’s something warm and heavy on her chest, and when she moves, she realises it’s Mabel.

“Jan?”

“I’m here, sweetheart.” The voice comes from the bathroom, and Jan steps out of it, face washed clean of makeup and long blonde hair braided loosely at the nape of her neck. She’s shirked her leggings, only wearing her oversized dragonfly print shirt. Jackie is too tired to pretend she isn’t looking at the bare expanse of her thigh.

“Did you finish?” Jan grins and nods, bending to scoop Mabel from her chest so Jackie is able to sit up without dislodging the cat.

“I did. My fingers are so sore, but it’s all finished. I’ll show you tomorrow. Bed?” This level of domesticity is dizzying. Jackie nods, hauls her self off the sofa and heads for the bathroom to clean her teeth. When she emerges, Jan is already settled on one side of her bed, stroking Mabel while the cat kneads the duvet. Jackie gets the light, and pads across the cold floorboards too exhausted to feel any anticipation or worry. Her world has narrowed to just a couple of certainties: she wants Jan, and she wants sleep.

Her head hits the pillow, and the apartment is so quiet. Jan has warmed the bed already, and she rolls over to face her, but gets a face full of cat instead. Mabel is fussing, wanting to get under the covers with them, and Jackie holds the duvet up so she can slink underneath it and settle between them, rumbling with approval. In the dark, so close to her, Jan laughs softly.

“This is nice,” Jan whispers, and Jackie’s eyes are already closed, but she makes a mumbled noise of assent. “This is so nice, Jacqueline.”

“Mmm,” Jackie says, and falls asleep.

-

When Jackie wakes, just before dawn, Jan is curled around her, bunched up fists pressed into her back and knees nested against hers. Mabel is living her best life stretched across the pillow along the tops of their heads. Jackie is physically incapable of dozing, but she doesn’t move. Instead she waits, feeling the gentle pressure of Jan’s knuckles, the soft puffs of Jan’s breath at the top of her spine. Something clicks into place for her - she doesn’t know what, but something uncertain and wild in her quietens. Settles.

She extracts herself carefully, pulling the covers back up around Jan’s shoulders where they’ve fallen so she doesn’t get cold. Jan is predictably a heavy sleeper, and doesn’t even seem to stir as Jackie showers and dresses. She makes a pot of coffee, and leaves enough in there for her guest, grabbing a mug and shrugging on her coat before she heads downstairs. As much as she would love to dawdle, be there for Jan to wake up, the party is that evening and she has stupid amounts of work to do before then.

Nicky arrives just as Jackie is unlocking the doors to the centre, grumbling about how cold it is, and without complaint Jackie hands over her coffee. Crystal arrives soon after, accompanied by the extra-tall ladder she had promised to bring to help hang decorations. The tree has been set up for a week now, but there is still the rest of the place to make festive, and Jackie takes decorating very seriously.

The three of them are crouched over a crate of fairy lights, trying desperately to untangle them, when Crystal clears her throat. “Sorry if this is a weird question, but uh. Do either of you know where Jan is?” The question is directed at both of them, but she is only looking at Jackie. “It’s just, she didn’t come home last night…”

Nicky’s jaw drops, and Jackie absolutely cannot look at her. The only way she is getting through this social interaction is by pretending Nicky unequivocally does not exist. Crystal isn’t a shit-stirrer, she wouldn’t ask if she wasn’t genuinely concerned, and Jackie tries to bear that in mind as she opens her mouth to speak.

“She crashed at mine. It got late when she was sewing decorations. Don’t worry about it, she’s safe.” Relief floods Crystal’s face, and Jackie is grateful that she leaves it at that, especially when she knows Nicky absolutely will _not_ when the two of them are alone. But that’s a problem for later.

It’s still a regular schedule despite party set up, and soon Heidi arrives to open the creche, Yvie not long after her to set up for seniors pottery. The centre is buzzing, Jackie being stopped constantly by women telling her how excited they are for the Christmas party, how much their kids or parents or friends are looking forward to it. A number of people come by to drop off plates of food, and Bob, one of the women who runs the lesbian archives down on 14th, stops by with a crate of unlabelled wine. Jackie has always been a little in awe of Bob, who has been working in community advocacy since Jackie was in high school and is as funny and personable as she is a force to be reckoned with. Nicky picks through the crate, frowning over the lack of labels, and Bob rolls her eyes good-naturedly. “What, they don’t have cleanskins in France? Beggars can’t be choosers, Nic.”

Around half past ten Jan emerges, breezing sheepishly over to Crystal to give her a hug. Jackie is halfway through a conversation with a parent about timetabling in the new year so she tries to ignore her, but it is difficult when Jan is wearing one of her shirts. The red and blue plaid flannel she’s wearing is absolutely Jackie’s, one of her favourites because of how soft it is. Where it’s slouchy on Jackie in the shoulders, Jan is broader, from years of being insufferably athletic no doubt. The pull of the shirt across Jan’s chest is a lot to process when Jackie’s standing in front of a middle aged woman attempting to talk about the logistics of drop-in homework assistance sessions.Jan’s clutching her bunting, and she watches as Crystal examines it and says something, causing Jan to throw her head back and laugh.

Later, Jan catches Jackie in the kitchenette. “Oh hey,” she greets her, and if Jackie isn’t mistaken, Jan seems a little nervous.

“Hey sleeping beauty,” Jackie teases, trying to put her at ease, and Jan flushes adorably pink.

“I had no idea I was going to sleep so late, I’m so sorry.” But Jackie is laughing, shaking her head.

“Don’t worry about it, honestly. You obviously needed it.” Jan nods, biting her lip.

“Yeah, I slept well.” Jackie is suddenly hit with the reminder of how it felt to wake up this morning with Jan curled around her. The space between them now, only four feet in the tiny kitchenette, feels way too far.

“I’m glad,” she says hoarsely. It’s the truth.

“Do you want a cookie?” Jan asks suddenly, and Jackie realises she’s holding a Tupperware with the lid popped. “Crystal made them. They’re pretty good if you’re into crunchy vegan stuff.”

“I’m a dyke, aren’t I?” Jackie says, taking a cookie, and Jan laughs delightedly.

Nicky chooses that moment to walk into the kitchenette, and stops abruptly, looking between the two of them. Jackie is all too quickly reminded of how small a space their kitchen actually is.

“Hey, Nicky,” Jan says sunnily, “you want a cookie? Crystal made them.” Jackie takes a bite of hers so she doesn’t have to say anything. She endures a few minutes of conversation before Jan bustles off to help Crystal again, and Jackie is left with her co-director. She braces herself to be made fun of, but it doesn’t come.

“You know I’m here when you want to talk,” Nicky says quietly, and when Jackie glances up at her, there’s a delicate intensity to her expression that Jackie knows she doesn’t give her nearly enough credit for. They spend so much time working and planning and caffeinating that Jackie sometimes forgets that Nicky is the best friend she has ever had. “Just say the word, Jac.”

Jackie nods. There’s a lump in her throat. “I know,” she whispers. She feels vulnerable, sliced open, but not in a bad way. At the end of the day she knows she could trust Nicky with her life. “But— after. Not today. Let’s just do this damn party, okay?”

Nicky sighs, wraps an arm around her and pulls her in close to press a kiss to her temple. “Yeah, okay. You got it. Let’s do this.”

-

The party is a success, but of course it is. It’s full of familiar faces, corny music, and a ridiculous quantity of food and booze. Nicky puts on a Santa hat to hand out sweets to the kids which is an absolute highlight. Jackie has her glass continuously refilled by well-wishers, and the evening is a blur of being pulled into conversation by people she cares about. Every free moment she has, there’s Jan by her side, tinsel wrapped like a halo around the crowd of her head, tugging Jackie in close to clink yet another glass of Bob’s mystery wine. She’s absolutely glowing, cheeks pink from wine, and Jackie’s been drinking so she permits herself to think Jan looks like an angel without feeling embarrassed about it. It’s Christmas, after all.

Brita appears from the throng, pulling Jackie into a bear hug with a delighted, “Jax!” Jackie slops some of her chardonnay down Brita’s jumper but she doesn’t seem to notice. “Jan’s worked out well, then?” she asks, and Jackie gestures vaguely to the bunting that criss-crosses the ceiling, impossible to miss.

“She’s done wonders for our interior decoration.” Brita laughs, enveloping her in another hug, and Jackie goes willingly.

The night passes, and the families with kids start to leave, the numbers dwindling to those Jackie would count as their friends. The wine and music keep coming. At some point Brita is giving Jan a shove towards the microphone and they’re both laughing, tripping over one another. Women start yelling requests for an impromptu performance, and Jackie gets to see Jan sing for the first time. She’s heard her sing before, of course, singing along to songs when she’s teaching the kids, or under her breath when she’s squinting over the sewing machine. But it’s the first time Jackie has truly seen her _perform_. She lights up the room, even when she fumbles with the words, drunkenly swatting at Brita’s shoulder and howling with laughter as they belt their way through _Baby, It’s Cold Outside_. Her eyes are bright and merry and they search the crowd until they land on Jackie, and that’s where they stay.

Next to her, Bob is whistling and clapping, and lets out a loud “Encore!” when they’re done and taking their bows. She leans into Jackie’s ear and says loudly, “What are you waiting for Jac, are you gonna get the girl or what?” Jackie is too dazed to be embarrassed, and instead grins, taking a long drink from her wineglass.

It’s gone one in the morning, and the group tapers off until it’s just staff. Clean up can wait until tomorrow, they’ve deliberately rescheduled all their morning activities to allow for everyone to sleep off their hangovers. Jan finds Jackie saying her goodbyes to Yvie, and when she’s done, slips a hand in hers and squeezes.

“Do you want to stay?” Jackie whispers, before she loses her nerve. Her world has narrowed to nothing but Jan’s soft, warm hand in hers. They aren’t alone in the foyer but she doesn’t care.

Jan bites her lip, her eyes wide. “I have to pack, I’m going home for a couple of days tomorrow and I haven’t even started…” She looks pained, and Jackie gives her hand a squeeze to let her know it’s okay. She gets it. “Raincheck?”

“Raincheck,” Jackie promises her, and Jan smiles, dipping her head to lean it against Jackie’s shoulder.

“You’re staying here for Christmas, right? You never said.” Jan’s voice is muffled, but she’s close enough that Jackie hears every word, and each one presses heavy against her chest.

“Yep, staying here. Nicky’s staying too, we usually go over to Bob’s. She hosts a big Christmas dinner every year for women who stay in the city for the holidays.” It’s vague enough to imply what Jackie’s situation is, without having to specifically spell out that she does not want to go home. It isn’t that she doesn’t have a relationship with her mother, she does - it’s just strained. She doesn’t blame her. Her mother loves her, she knows this, but her grand plans for Jackie to be a doctor with a husband and two children by now is worlds apart from the lesbian-spinster-with-a-cat reality she is living. It makes going home difficult. The holidays are easier for everyone if Jackie just stays put in Brooklyn.

Jan lifts her head up and Jackie’s shoulder immediately feels cold. “Sounds like fun,” she says, and she gets it, but she isn’t going to make it into a thing, which Jackie appreciates.

“Jan,” comes a voice from behind them, and it’s Crystal, looking apologetic. “Sorry, we gotta go if we want to make our train.”

“Right, sure,” Jan nods, and looks back at Jackie. “Sorry about your shirt, I never said. I can drop it back tomorrow on my way out of the city?”

“Keep it.” Jackie’s mouth is moving before she even has the chance to think. It’s automatic. “You can hold onto it.”

Jan smiles, soft and private, just for her. “Okay,” she whispers, and leans in, pressing a kiss to the edge of Jackie’s jaw. Jackie’s heart stops. “Merry Christmas, Jacqueline.”

Jackie feels the words being traced on her skin by Jan’s lips, and closes her eyes. “Merry Christmas.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooo it's looking like there will be at least another two chapters in this! Also yeah that shirt Jan stole off Jackie is an actual shirt that Jan owns which was on her instagram. It looks like a cute shirt and I want it. I am a simple lesbian who enjoys a good plaid.


	3. Interlude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Both Crystal and Jan are like the fucking human manifestations of sunshine, I don’t know why you assumed all their friends would be elitist assholes,” Nicky mutters to her, grinning, when Jackie shares her positive thoughts on the party. “If anything, we’re the assholes here.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I lied, it's gonna be more than four chapters long because this little interlude wouldn't leave me alone. It also felt right to try to get something up in advance of the next ep in case the producers try to do a rubbish edit on Jan. So! Here we go.

In a slightly surprising turn of events, Jackie and Nicky get invites to Crystal’s New Year’s party.

“I don’t know about it. Everyone there is going to be very young and cool,” Jackie complains, picking individual chunks of sugar off her brioche and letting them dissolve on her tongue.

Nicky looks disgusted. “The way you eat your brioche is criminal. Also, are you implying that we are both old and uncool? Because, fuck you.”

It’s the 30th of December and they are celebrating the end of their work day (and work year) with poorly mulled wine and expensive brioche. The centre is empty, with only the two of them remaining, and Jackie has propped her feet up on the radiator in an effort to thaw them out. She had made the mistake of wearing sneakers to the bank today, and they were drenched by the time she’d gotten halfway down the street.

“You’re tall and French and hot, Nic, you get like. A lifetime cool pass. I, on the other hand, have never been cool in my life.” Jackie came to terms with this a very long time ago, and she thought she was past it bothering her. But she has been unusually on edge these past few days for reasons she does not want to think about. An invite to a party where she knows hardly anyone feels very far outside of her comfort zone.

“What is this, high school? You’re cool, Jackie, Jesus Christ. Brooklyn is cool now, haven’t you heard? Isn’t your girlfriend going to be there anyway? She lives with Crystal.”

Jackie studies her brioche with intense concentration. “No, Jan is still at her parents, spending time with her six hundred nieces and nephews. She’s back on the first. And she’s not my girlfriend,” she adds belatedly, too weak to be in any way convincing.

“Sure, okay,” Nicky drawls, and Jackie hates her a little until Nicky tops up her cup with the last of the mulled wine. “Come on, what else are we going to do. I don’t want to just go to some bar, house parties are more fun. And Crystal is nice, remember? We like Crystal.”

“We do like Crystal,” Jackie grudgingly. “Okay, okay. I give in. I’ll ring Crystal and tell her we are coming.”

“Maybe Jan will come home early and surprise you,” Nicky suggests, a shit-eating grin on her face, and Jackie sacrifices the rest of her brioche to lob it at Nicky’s head. It’s worth it. 

-

The party is actually fine. Better than fine. Crystal is so happy (and maybe little surprised) to see them, greeting them both with hugs and tipsy kisses pressed to the sides of their faces, ushering them into her crowded apartment. Yes, everyone looked very cool, but everyone was incredibly sweet. “Both Crystal and Jan are like the fucking human manifestations of sunshine, I don’t know why you assumed all their friends would be elitist assholes,” Nicky mutters to her, grinning, when Jackie shares her positive thoughts on the party. “If anything, we’re the assholes here.”

Crystal’s pride and joy is the punch, which is bright blue for some unknown reason, and has jelly cubes floating in it. “ _Vegan_ jelly,” Crystal makes sure to tell her, pointing at her concoction with the utmost seriousness, and Jackie almost makes a joke to remind her that not all lesbians are vegan, but Crystal is sweet, and the punch is delicious, so she leaves it be and instead asks for another cup. Crystal _beams_. Jackie is very happy for Crystal and her punch baby. 

It is more than a little weird being in Jan’s apartment when Jan isn’t there. When she thinks about it too much, she feels awkward, like she’s intruding or overstepping, moving too fast. It catches her at odd moments. She finds herself hesitating in front of the fridge when she goes to grab a soda, staring at the eclectic mix of magnets littering the fridge door and wondering which ones were chosen by Jan. When Crystal puts on _Jagged Little Pill_ and everyone cheers, Jackie wonders if it’s Jan’s copy of the album they are listening to. She feels Jan’s absence more than the presence of every other person in the room. It’s gay and gross and Jackie is exhausted by it.

There is a countdown, because of course there is. Sometime after Nicky picks Jackie up and spins her, shouting, “1997 is going to be so great, Jac, just you wait,” she becomes aware of Crystal calling her name. She finds her in the crowd, and pushes through the women hugging each other and yelling and singing, to reach Crystal where she’s perched on the kitchen counter.

“Phone for you,” she says, waggling the chunky landline in her face. It’s covered in peeling Spice Girls stickers. Jackie is perplexed.

“I don’t live here,” she says slowly, and Crystal laughs.

“No, but _someone else_ does,” and she nudges Jackie’s shoulder with the phone, then motions behind her. “If you wanna go somewhere a bit quieter, I’m sure Jan wouldn’t mind you taking a call in her room.”

_Her room_. Jackie swallows. “Cool, okay. Thanks Crystal.” Crystal passes her the phone, and leans in to kiss her cheek again.

“Happy New Year, babe.”

After how loud and bright the party going on is, Jan’s bedroom feels distinctly quiet. It smells so much like her. Jackie doesn’t know what she was expecting, but she has to stop for a moment and try to gather her drunk, clumsy senses as she takes a deep breath of rose scented shampoo or lotion or whatever it is that makes Jan smell like _that_. The room is small, but it’s New York, so that’s to be expected. There are four different kinds of sneakers kicked at the foot of her bed, and photos stuck in clusters on the walls. It’s weird, how much time Jan has spent at Jackie’s place, eating and laughing and using her shower and pestering her cat, and yet this is the first time she’s ever been in Jan’s room.

She puts the phone to her ear. “Hello?”

“Happy-happy-happy new year, Jacqueline!” She sounds happy, and safe, and so close. Jackie sits down on the purple bedspread with a thump.

“A happy new year to you, Janessa,”she says, and Jan laughs. “You’ll never guess where I am.”

“Wow, could it possibly be my bedroom? And I’m not there? Rude.”

“I like it.” On the other end of the line, Jan hesitates.

“It’s very small. And probably messy, I can’t remember what state I left it in when I was packing.”

“No.” Her words are heavy in her mouth. “It feels nice, Jan. It’s very you.”

“Is that a good thing?” Jan sounds younger suddenly, more vulnerable, and Jackie wishes more than anything she could see her face, touch her hand, anything. New Jersey has never felt so far away.

“So good.” Jan makes a pleased noise, and Jackie smiles. “Have you had a good New Years?”

“Yeah! I mean, it’s still going. God knows when the kids are going to drop, I’m trying to keep them entertained to give my brothers a break but surely they’ve got to sleep soon, right?”

“Being an aunt sounds exhausting.” Neither of Jackie’s two younger sisters have had kids yet, but she expects it will happen sooner rather than later. The uncertainty of how much of a role her family would want her to play in their lives makes her anxious. Her role as both a daughter and sister is strained, trying to figure out how to be an aunt amongst all that complicated familial guilt sounds terrifying. “Your family knows about you, right?”

“Knows I’m gay? Yeah, they do. I’m lucky, they’re cool. Protective and embarrassing, but cool.”

“That’s really good,” Jackie says sincerely. The more she hears about Jan’s huge, high energy, supportive family, the more Jan makes sense.

“Do yours?” Jan asks tentatively. Jackie clenches her fist in Jan’s bedspread. She closes her eyes, and she’s just drunk enough for the world to spin.

“They do, yeah.” She doesn’t elaborate. It isn’t a conversation she wants to have when she’s drunk, on New Years, in the bedroom of a girl she thinks she might be in love with. It’s the same tired story that everyone has heard a hundred times, and she just hasn’t got it in her. “I think Crystal’s been raiding your music, by the way. She’s been cranking _Spice_ and _Jagged Little Pill_ for the better part of the night.”

“That thieving bitch,” Jan says, a smile in her voice. “Thanks for the tip off, I’ll get my revenge when I’m back.”

_When I’m back_. Jackie opens her eyes, and steadies her feet on the ground. “Which is tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow night, yeah. My dad is driving me so I don’t have to get the train.”

“Wow, bougie,” Jackie ribs, delighted by Jan’s answering snort. “So I’ll see you on Tuesday?”

“Sure, I’m teaching anyway. And I gotta make sure Mabel hasn’t forgotten me.”

“No chance of that. She’s been pining something fierce.” It’s a bad joke, too close to home, and Jackie takes her glasses off, digging the heel of her palm into her eye. She suddenly wishes they weren’t having this conversation. The juxtaposition between being surrounded by Jan’s belongings while Jan herself is miles away is making Jackie’s dumb gay heart feel too raw, too exposed, too much. “Listen, Jan—”

There’s high pitched yelling in the background of the call. Jan’s laughing, saying something to her nieces, and Jackie knows that’s it. It’s for the best, she tells herself, before she fucks up and says something she will come to regret. “Listen, Jac, I gotta go. Duty calls. Have a good night, okay?”

“You too, Jan.” The silence is deafening. She lets the phone fall from her hand onto the mattress, buries her face in her hands and counts three long, shuddering breaths. When she looks up, she notices through watery eyes the _Dykes To Watch Out For_ print hanging opposite, and her heart clenches. She is in _deep_.

When she exits Jan’s room, phone held tight against her chest, Nicky is by her side immediately.

“Have you been crying?” she asks, blunt as ever, but Jackie loves that about her. Bluntness is good. She decides to try it for herself.

“I am in love with Jan,” she says out loud, voice trembling, “I think— yeah.”

Nicky pulls a sympathetic face, and laughing, takes the phone from her hands and wraps an arm around her shoulders.

“I know. I know, Jac. Crystal said something about tequila shots, do you want to do a shot?”

Jackie wants to do a shot very much. “Lead the way,” she says, and Nicky holds on tight to her hand, and hauls her through the crowd.

Later, salt on their wrists and limes at the ready, Nicky leans close to her, liquor heavy on her breath. “It will be okay, Jackie. I really believe that.” Jackie bites down hard on her lip to stop it from trembling.

“I believe you,” she says, and it’s mostly the truth. She shuts her eyes, licks her wrist, knocks back the shot, and things maybe don’t seem so bad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly, from the bottom of my heart, thank you so much for all of your sweet comments! I'm not on Twitter or Tumblr anymore (although I'm considering remaking) so this is really my only engagement with the fandom, and it's been so so good. I'm so glad that this nineties lesbian drama appeals to others as much as it appeals to me! Hope you're all keeping well and safe.


	4. Winter (ii)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You’re amazing,” Jan says, and Jackie almost laughs but Jan is too earnest, her eyes so bright it almost hurts for Jackie to look at them. She doesn’t know how Jan somehow manages to be so funny and enthusiastic but simultaneously the most serious woman Jackie has ever met. Her chest aches with how fiercely she loves this woman.

Winter keeps trucking along. Whatever had almost happened between them over the holidays… it hadn’t disappeared, but it hadn’t eventuated as such. Jan had returned from Jersey in one piece, but January was busy and cold and passed in a blur as it is often wont to do. Jan had started back at school, and Jackie spent most of her days holed up in her office, catching up on holiday backlog. Although the centre didn’t close over Christmas, most of the groups they worked with did, which meant twelve hour admin days spent hunched over her ledger or their single whirring computer. Although Jackie was unperturbed by the cold, it did always tend to bite harder in January, and with people feeling the post-Christmas financial pinch, the centre was chaos. Jackie is blessed with Nicky as her business partner, who manages to talk Monet, their lawyer who runs their fortnightly legal clinic pro bono, into upping her hours to once a week for the duration of winter, accomodating for the number of women who are in need of free legal advice. As expected the numbers of those seeking information regarding their difficult landlords or unreasonable employers skyrocketed over the colder months, when heat and money were scarce and tempers were short. Nicky and Jackie did their best to facilitate legal advice for every woman who approached the centre, and for those who just needed to talk they offered cups of tea and a friendly face. January was always so hard, but this is why the centre exists, Jackie reminds herself when she’s on her eighth twelve hour day in a row. This is them making whatever small difference they are able to.

Jackie and Jan continue like that for days, catching glimpses of each other in passing - Jan legging it across the foyer, almost late for teaching her class as she unwraps her scarf from around her neck, cheeks bitten red from cold. Jackie coming back to her desk after a long, painful funding meeting to a box of pistachio and rosewater doughnuts left next to her ledger. She’d mentioned to Jan once that she loves them, but hardly eats them because she rarely gets up to Manhattan, meaning Jan had gone out of her way to buy them specially and carry them with her on the subway to work. Jackie closes her eyes, brushes her fingers across the top of the fancy white box, and lets herself miss Jan for just a second. They haven’t had a moment between them to talk in weeks. It’s a hard month.

They very nearly make it out of January. Then Jackie falls ill.

It takes her longer than usual to pick up on it. She feels tired and sore, but she’s perpetually exhausted at the moment anyway, so it doesn’t make much of a difference. Then the ache starts in her throat and behind her eyes. The fever is the worst part though. Nicky catches her shivering in their office one morning, face in her hands, and kicks her out immediately.

“Go upstairs, for fucks sake,” she tells Jackie sternly. “I’ll come check on you later. Don’t you dare take any work up with you.” It is a testament to how poorly Jackie feels that she does not argue.

On her way out, Jan is swinging through the foggy glass double doors. “Jacqueline,” she sings, and then stops, frowning. “You aren’t looking so hot.”

“Rude,” Jackie says pathetically, resisting the urge to reach out and gently smooth the frown lines from Jan’s perfect forehead. She hates that she’s made her worry.

“Are you sick?” Jan presses a hand to Jackie’s forehead and winces. Her hand is so soft. _It’s not fair_ , thinks Jackie weakly. “You’re running a fever, Jac.”

“Nicky’s banished me upstairs,” Jackie explains, mourning the loss of Jan’s palm when she withdraws it.

“Good!” Jan says emphatically, “do you need anything?”

“No, I’m good. I think I’m just going to sleep it off.” Jan is worrying her bottom lip with her teeth, and it’s excruciating.

When Jackie reaches her floor, her lungs are burning. Mabel is delighted to see her, winding herself around Jackie’s legs over and over again, purring like the clunky old lawnmower Jackie remembers from her parents house. “Come here, baby,” she murmurs, scooping her up and holding her close. She desperately wants tea but cannot even start to wrap her head around the process of making it, suddenly overwhelmed with exhaustion. Shuffling through to her bedroom, she drops the cat on the mattress, kicks her boots and jeans off, and collapses into bed.

Jan wasn’t teaching this morning, she realises, right when she’s teetering on the edge of sleep. There was no class scheduled for her. Why was she at the centre? It’s apparently a riddle for another time, though, and Jackie falls promptly asleep.

-

Jackie comes to gradually, aware of the painful scratch of her throat and pounding at her temples. There’s someone in her kitchen, the faint sounds of someone trying to be quiet but not quite managing it, and she groggily hauls herself up onto her elbows. “Nicky?” she calls, and wow, her voice sounds bad. She checks her bedside clock, and it’s just gone twelve. She has slept through half the work day already.

A blonde head pokes around the doorway. “You’re not Nicky,” Jackie says, and Jan grins.

“Morning, sunshine. I come bearing supplies. Do you think you can handle some mushroom soup?”

“I’ll give it a valiant go,” Jackie croaks. Jan looks at her hard, and Jackie feels like she is being studied. She wants to squirm, pull the duvet back over her head and go back to sleep. Jan’s kindness makes her nervous. The lack of time they have spent together lately combined with Jackie’s flu-ridden brain means that she is struggling to process Jan’s behaviour. Historically she relied on her sharp, analytical mind to turn any social interaction over and over until she had accurately assessed it and come to a conclusion. This system tripped her up a lot in high school, making it even more difficult for the obviously dykey nerd to make friends. Although she has relaxed into her social interactions - she kind of has to, working in an industry that relies on thoughtful, instinctive social interaction - she can’t help slipping back into bad habits with Jan. Pretty girls make her nervous.

“I’m going to heat you up some soup, and you’re going to eat it and then drink some water and go back to sleep,” Jan says sternly, and Jackie manages a half-grin.

“Okay, okay.” They bicker over Jackie staying in bed to eat, and Jan relents, instead permitting Jackie to sit on the sofa, making sure the cushions are fluffed behind her.

“I’m not some kind of Victorian invalid, Jan.” But the soup is good and hot so Jackie doesn’t complain any more than that. Companionable silence settles across the apartment while Jan unpacks the brown bags of groceries she’s carried up, and Mabel fusses between them. Suddenly, while she watches Jan toasting a bagel for herself, Jackie remembers her train of thought from before she fell asleep.

“You weren’t schedule to teach today,” she says, and Jan makes a noise of affirmation as she smears peanut butter messily across her bagel. “Why were you at the centre?” Jan sets the knife down on the side of her plate, and looks up, meeting Jackie’s eyes. Her smile is achingly genuine, and Jackie thinks it’s the most beautiful thing she has seen this entire cold, hard, long month.

“I actually wanted to tell you some good news. One of my professors, Alexis, has put my name forward for this like, prestigious scholarship. It’s for tuition and also a bursary, so… yeah, it would be really great. Definitely take the pressure off.” She takes a bite of her bagel and grins, a chunk of peanut butter caught at the corner of her mouth, and rocks back on her heels. Jackie wants to kiss the peanut butter from her lips.

“Jan, what the hell! That’s incredible! Congratulations!”

“Thank you! It’s pretty unexpected, I never, like. Thought of myself as super academic, you know? But this course is great, and I really think working at the centre has helped me see so much real-world application for what I’m studying. It’s only measured partially through grades anyway, they also look at your extra-curricular stuff that supports your course. So I was wondering… would you be able to write me a reference? For my work at the centre?”

“Of course,” Jackie says sincerely, and presses a hand to her chest. “Anything, Jan, honestly. This is so great. If you want me to proof read anything for you, or we can do mock interviews, whatever you need.” Her heart is brimming with pride. She knows Jan is incredible, obviously, but when other people acknowledge the outpouring of light and warmth from Jan, it feels right.

She sees Jan’s shoulders relax, her smile come easier, and Jackie realises she must have been nervous to ask for help. “Thank you, Jackie,” she says after another bite of bagel. “That means a lot.”

As soon as she finishes her soup Jackie is ushered back into bed, a full bottle of water waiting for her on her nightstand. “Make sure you keep drinking,” Jan instructs, and Jackie gently reminds her that she has in fact been sick before. “You still need to stay hydrated,” Jan says, her cheeks pink as she busies herself with straightening the blankets, and it’s so adorable that Jackie doesn’t argue any further. 

The next two days pass in a blur. Jackie’s fever means she’s perpetually exhausted and confused, only leaving her bed to shower and once to sit on her bathroom floor and down a pint of orange juice. It feels cool and clean in there, resting her overheated face against the cold tiles.

Nicky and Jan drift and out while Jackie sleeps fitfully. She wants to tell them she’s okay, but the effort of talking is too much, and usually by the time she’s worked out how to do it, she’s alone in her apartment again with Mabel curled against her legs. She swears the cat can tell she’s unwell - Mabel is clingy at the best of times, but she quite literally has not left Jackie’s side since she fell ill.

On the third day, she wakes up and immediately feels like she can actually think coherently. She’s over the moon. Jackie lies there, blinking at the ceiling, trying to get her eyes to adjust to the fading light outside her window and the lamplight in the corner of the room, when she becomes aware of a scratching noise. Shifting, she rolls onto her side, and notices Jan. It seems she has dragged the armchair from the living room and wedged it into the corner of Jackie’s tiny bedroom. She’s draped over it sideways, legs draped over the arm, scribbling into the open textbook in her lap. Her glasses have made a rare appearance. Jan usually wears contacts, complaining that glasses make her face look too round, but Jackie thinks she looks adorable as she peers down at her book with a furrowed brow.

“Hey,” Jackie whispers, and Jan looks up.

“Hey, you,” Jan greets her, speaking softly as if Jackie is a wild animal that will frighten easily. “How are you feeling? You’ve been sleeping for about eighty five years.”

“Better, I think,” Jackie says, trying to take stock of her body. Her throat hurts the most, rasping and tender, but her head doesn’t hurt as much. “I think my fever is gone.”

“Yeah?” Jan is watching her, pencil still hovering over her book. She looks so tired, but peaceful.

“Have you been here long?” Jan shrugs.

“Not so long. I worked this afternoon, and just popped up here after to check on you. The heating is bust at my place anyway, so I figured I’d get some study done here. Don’t worry, the landlord’s apparently fixing it tomorrow,” she says, anticipating Jackie’s righteous frustration as she pushes herself up on her elbows, frowning. “Do you want some food? I can heat up some soup for you, or Nicky dropped off a tonne of fruit.”

Jackie shoves a third pillow behind her shoulders and settles back. “Maybe in a little bit.” In the lamplight, without her glasses on, Jan looks hazy and golden. Otherworldly. “Has work been okay?”

“Yeah, it has been.” There’s a silence, and when Jackie opens her eyes, Jan is watching her, a soft, fond look on her face. “You care so much, Jackie. You and Nicky have done such great things with this place.”

“It’s important.” Jackie is caught off-guard. “It’s a lot of work, but I just think— at the end of the day, our community is what we can fall back on. We all should be able to rely on support from one another. It’s important to work at it.”

“Did you always want to do something like this?” Jan asks, setting her book aside and rearranging herself so she’s perched with her knees hugged to her chest. Jackie shakes her head.

“No, not really… I was thinking about going into academia in college. I couldn’t really envision a reality for myself as a Women’s Studies major outside of the academia. Then in my final year, I interned with the archives, and met Bob— you remember Bob? — and she sort of changed my world view, I guess. Like, how I thought about myself, and my obligation towards my community. I knew I was a lesbian since high school, and obviously, you know, majoring in Women’s Studies, I knew I loved women. But working with Bob and the other women at the archives showed me how I really could _love_ women. Like how to centre women in my life as a force for positive change. Look at community as something more than just a buzzword, but a real, tangible thing that can be built and sustained, as a support system but also as a joyous thing. I wanted to take all the theory I had learned in undergrad and put it into action.”

“That’s beautiful,” Jan whispers, chin resting on her knees. Jackie blushes.

“Yeah, well. I give full credit to the archives, they do amazing community based work down there. So long story short, I applied for grad school, got accepted into a Social Work programme, met Nicky in our first week there. We both knew we wanted to work together, but we weren’t sure how that would translate into the real world outside college. Then in our last semester, Bob put us in touch with Michelle, who had run Prospect Centre since the seventies. It was kind of like her baby, but with increasing rental prices and a lack of staff, it was having big struggles, and she was looking to retire. Wanted to move to Florida for the weather, you know. So we went for a few meetings, signed some paperwork, and way too quickly it was in our hands. It’s crazy but I guess Michelle saw something in us she liked. Nicky had money from her mom so we were able to pay upfront for initial costs, but that last semester was an absolute blur. I thought one of us was going to have a complete meltdown. But, you know, we didn’t, and now it’s six years later and here we are.” Her voice is so hoarse, from flu and days of barely talking, but speaking so languidly is soothing. She feels overwhelmingly drowsy, cocooned in her duvet and pillows, with Jan looking at her like she hung the moon. This is the safest Jackie has felt in a long time.

“You’re amazing,” Jan says, and Jackie almost laughs but Jan is too earnest, her eyes so bright it almost hurts for Jackie to look at them. She doesn’t know how Jan somehow manages to be so funny and enthusiastic but simultaneously the most serious woman Jackie has ever met. Her chest aches with how fiercely she loves this woman.

“Jan…” she begins, but she’s exhausted. Her limbs and eyelids are heavy. Outside, she hears the beginnings of rain.

“Get some more sleep, Jacqueline,” Jan’s voice soothes her. “We can talk more later.”

-

Jackie’s back at work by Friday. She’s still tired, and a little sniffly, but insists she’s “all better, Nicky, please stop fussing, oh my God,” when Nicky starts feeling her forehead and frowning.

“Fine, but let this be a lesson to you,” Nicky says, dropping a paper bag onto Jackie’s desk. It smells like freshly baked brioche, and Jackie’s mouth starts to water. “No more working yourself into the ground.”

“Sure, sure whatever.” She’s already tearing into the bag, her appetite definitely back after days of not being able to eat properly.

She falls easily back into work, but she genuinely does try to pace herself more. Talking with Jan reminded her why she’s doing this, what her purpose is, and she can’t work for her community when she’s running herself ragged. She tries to sleep more, buys more vegetables and throws almost none of them away at the end of the week, and of course, takes time to help Jan with her scholarship preparations. Jackie is obviously biased, seeing how hard Jan works at every single thing she cares about, but apparently she’s been told she’s got a good shot.

“Alexis really thinks I could get it,” she tells Jackie, perched on the edge of her desk while Jackie scans her application for grammatical errors. “I’ve just gotta impress the faculty heads and bursar in my interview, and get my application right.”

“You’ve got the interview in the bag,” Jackie says absently mindedly, marking in a comma where Jan has forgotten one. Jan’s obviously smart, but her biggest struggle in her writing is run-on sentences. For every paper Jackie’s ever proof-read for her, she has had to add in at least ten commas or full-stops. “Really, they’re gonna be sold on you. These things are all about first impressions, and you’re great at those. Here,” she flips the last paper to the back of the pile, and hands it over to Jan. “Done. You’re all set.” Jan beams, clapping her hands together and grabbing her application.

“Thank you _so_ much, Jac, this means the world.”

“Anytime, Janessa, really,” Jackie says easily, leaning back in her chair and smiling. “Are you still going to submit it today?”

Jan checks her watch. “Yeah, if I head off now, I should be able to make it to the faculty office before it closes.” She propels herself off the desk, and zips her papers into her sequinned backpack. “See you tomorrow!” She almost collides with Nicky as she hurries out of the office, greeting her with an elbow squeeze before disappearing from sight.

“Someone’s happy,” Nicky observes, throwing herself into her chair and propping her feet up on the desk.

“She’s off to submit her scholarship application,” Jackie tells her, shuffling papers around her desk in an effort to find her red pen. They really need to tidy up their office now some of the winter insanity is dying down.

“Hmm.” Nicky is still, and Jackie glances up. “I was actually talking about you.”

“Oh.” Jackie is caught off guard, but she can’t stop the smile that tugs at the corners of her mouth. “Well— yeah, I’m feeling pretty good.”

“That’s great, Jackie.” Nicky is so sincere that Jackie has to look away, fumbling with papers she’s already checked, so she doesn’t have to look at her friend. “Are we done talking about it today, then?” Nicky’s tone is light, teasing, and Jackie blushes but she’s smiling too.

“Yes, yes we are,” Jackie says delicately, and Nicky throws her head back, letting out a bark of laughter.

-

Jan gets her interview date: February 16th. Everything feels like it’s happened so fast, and Jackie isn’t even the one going for it. They prep interview techniques, gets Nicky involved for some wildcard questions, and Jan handles it all with her trademark enthusiastic professionalism. _She’s a shoe-in_ , Jackie thinks, watching as she listens, wide-eyed and nodding, to Nicky’s feedback.

A couple of days before the interview, and Jackie is getting read to head out for a meeting when there’s a knock at her office door. “Come in,” she calls distractedly, and Jan steps in, her hands behind her back.

“Hey! Is this a bad time?” Jan is wearing leopard print Doc Martens today with an oversized lavender hoodie, her long blonde hair tied on the top of her head in a topknot. She looks like some kind of hybrid Spice Girl. It’s the sort of thing that would look ridiculous on anyone else, but Jan manage to pull it off through sheer force of will. “I just wanted to give you something.”

“For me?” Jackie is packing her bag up, but pauses, interested. Jan reveals what is behind her back with a flourish, a small cardboard box, and hands it over to Jackie, who slides her thumb under the lid and pops it open. Immediately, she can smell something incredible. “Oh wow, what is this?”

“It’s a candle.” Jan is beaming, rocking on her heels. “Crystal and I made them together. Really, she did most of it - she makes heaps, she used to like, sell them at markets and stuff back in college. I don’t know if I was really that much help but she was really nice about it and it was fun! Anyway, it might be too like, crunchy to give you a homemade candle, but I thought, you know, you’re pretty crunchy. In a good way, like, the best way. And I picked the scent out but if you don’t like it then Crystal still has some more I think so I can swap it out—”

Jackie reaches forwards and takes one of Jan’s hands, and Jan falls silent. “Janiella,” she says, and she’s smiling so hard it makes her face hurt, “Shut up. I love it. Thank you for my crunchy homemade candle.” She holds it to her nose and breathes in. It smells familiar but untouchable. “What scent is it?”

“A few things. It’s like, bergamot, cardamom. Mandarin. Nutmeg. Some other stuff. It reminded me of you.”

Jackie raises her eyebrows. “Mysterious.”

“Hey, you’re a mysterious gal,” Jan laughs. “Anyway, I just wanted to give it to you. Today. As a gift.”

“I appreciate it.” Jackie checks her watch. “Shit. I was due at the legal clinic five minutes ago.” She sets the candle down on her desk, and slings her bag over her shoulder. “See you later? Thank Crystal for me, too.”

“Oh, sure. I will. See you later.” Jan smiles, but something seems a bit off. But Jackie is late, so she files it away to think about later, when she is not actively holding up three very nice lawyers who do a lot of things for her for free.

-

The meeting runs late, and the following day is hectic. It’s not until she and Nicky are walking to pick up Chinese for dinner that she realises she hasn’t seen Jan all day.

“Did you see Jan today? Her interview’s tomorrow, I was hoping to wish her luck.”

“Briefly, she was teaching this afternoon, but she seemed like she was in a hurry. Didn’t stop to talk when I said hello. Why?” Jackie frowns, biting her lip as she buries her hands deeper into her pockets. It’s mid-February but still feels like summer is years away.

“She gave me something yesterday when I was in a rush, and I think I brushed her off a bit.” Nicky stops walking, and Jackie doesn’t realise for couple of steps, turning on her heel to look at her friend. “What, why have we stopped?”

“She gave you something?” Nicky demands, an incredulous smile on her face. “What was it?”

“Just a candle,” Jackie says defensively, “she and Crystal made it. Not anything big.”

“She gave you a homemade candle yesterday?” Nicky is looking at her like she is stupid. “Jackie, what day was it yesterday?”

“Tuesday?” Nicky throws her hands up, laughing.

“Oh my god, you are the smartest person I know but you can be so dense when you want to be. Jacqueline. Yesterday was _Valentines Day_.”

Jackie’s ears are filled with white noise. Valentines Day. Jan gave her a homemade gift yesterday and Jackie told her to thank Crystal for it. “Wow. Fuck.”

“Yeah, fuck sounds right.” Nicky wraps her arm around Jackie’s shoulders, and starts to guide her towards the takeaway store. “I mean, it’s fine. I feel like it’s very on brand for you, so she’ll get over it. Who knew, maybe if you guys would have had a conversation about _whatever this is_ between you two months ago, like I suggested, this wouldn’t be happening now.”

“I don’t need gloating, Nicky,” Jackie says sullenly, letting herself be guided, her feet shuffling along the icy pavement.

Nicky huffs out a laugh. “Okay. What do you need? Realistically you can’t resolve this tonight, although I do genuinely think it will be fine. It’s not that big of a deal. So what do you need?”

Jackie groans. She has known she is a lesbian for over half of her life, and she is still making mistakes like this. It’s exhausting. “I don’t know. Tequila.”

“Maybe not a great idea on a school night.”

“Spring rolls?” Nicky gives her shoulder a squeeze.

“That, my friend, I can do.”

-

Jan is due to teach at 4pm the next day, and at 3:45pm, Jackie is waiting anxiously in the foyer for her. She knew it had been her big interview at midday, and had thought about phoning her the night before to wish her luck, but by the time she had hauled herself out of her food coma and up to her apartment, she was worried it was too late and she would wake her. Besides, after the awkwardness of the other day, Jackie was unsure where they stood. Talking face to face felt better.

At 3:52pm Jan hurries inside, waving at some of the kids who are already waiting who call out to her. Jackie loves how much all the kids adore her. Jackie and Nicky are both popular, well-liked by the people who visit the centre, but Jan is like a celebrity, especially to the children.

Jan is making a beeline for the stairs, and apparently doesn’t see Jackie. “Jannette!” Jackie calls, and Jan falters, turning to face her as Jackie jogs over. “Hey!”

“Hey, sorry! Just in a rush, my train was late.”

Jackie waves her hand. “Don’t worry about it. So how was the interview, did you wow them?”

Jan hesitates. “They were super nice. The questions were all one we’d prepped for, which was great.” She checks her chunky neon wristwatch, and Jackie glances down at her own. 3:54pm.

“That does sound great. When do you hear?”

“Oh, I’m not sure…” Jan is looking behind her, to the double doors, where more kids and their moms are starting to gather. “I should get upstairs and set up.”

“Of course,” Jackie nods, and almost ends it there, but then thinks, _what the hell_. “Wait, one second. The candle you gave me, I just want to say. I completely forgot it was Valentines Day, I’m sorry. I just— I want you to know I really appreciate it, and you.”

Jan’s eyes are wide, and she smiles, but it doesn’t go any higher than her mouth. “No problem. We’re all good. I’m glad you liked it.” She leans around Jackie and calls, “two minutes guys!”

“I’ll let you go,” Jackie says awkwardly. Something isn’t right. Fuck. She’s done this all wrong.

“Okay,” Jan smiles in that same distant, robotic way again. “See you.” She turns and clatters up the stairs. Jackie’s left standing in the foyer, her heart sinking.

-

Jackie tries to remain positive - maybe she and Jan really are just missing each other in the centre, maybe they’re living opposite schedules at the moment. But when Jan arranges for Yvie to cover one of her classes without running it past Jackie, she knows for sure. Jan is avoiding her.

“What’s up with you?” Nicky asks, one eyebrow raised as Jackie slams her desk drawer shut.

“Nothing,” Jackie says sharply, then, “don’t you think we should be consulted if one of our teachers is subbing in for someone else? We aren’t the directors for nothing.”

“Have you got something against Yvie?” Nicky drawls, dangling a pencil between her thumb and forefingers as she swivels her chair back and forth.

“Of course not,” Jackie bites out, “Yvie is perfectly capable of teaching gymnastics. But that’s Jan’s class.”

“It is,” Nicky says evenly, and Jackie grits her teeth and wishes she had never said anything. “And she couldn’t make it, so she arranged cover within our preexisting pool of facilitators so she didn’t have to bother us with it. I think that’s fine. It’s always been fine when our instructors have done this in the past. Could this possibly be about something else?”

“Do _not_ start, Nicky, I’m not in the mood.” _Fuck_ , she feels so hard-hearted and thoughtless. She and Jan were good, they were _so_ good, and she managed to fuck it up in one idiotic fumble. And now Jan is avoiding her. “I just think it’s unprofessional.”

“I think you’re being unprofessional.” Jackie stands, kicking her chair back. Her blood thrums hot at her pulse points and she is so, so furious with herself she can barely think.

“Fuck you,” she bites out, her hands trembling as she rakes one through her hair. “You’re supposed to have my back, and you told me to talk to her about the candle. We’d be fine if you hadn’t pushed me into it.”

Nicky rolls her eyes. “Maybe, Jacqueline, if you had just _asked her out_ months ago like I told you to, you wouldn’t be in this shitty position now where you snubbed the girl you’re in love with on Valentines Day and now things are weird. Do you know what would have made things less weird? Talking about your feelings from the start.”

Jackie feels like her skin has been peeled open and Nicky can see right into her, see all the weak parts of herself she loathes and keeps hidden away. “Shut up.” Her voice is choked and she fucking _hates_ it. “You don’t know what you’re talking about, you’ve never had a meaningful relationship in your life.”

Nicky folds her arms across her chest. “I know you’re hurting and angry with yourself, but that’s a really shitty thing to say.” Jackie knows it is, knows she’s out of line, but her heart is thundering and she can’t think straight. She scrubs a hand over her face, wishing Nicky would just _fight_ her instead of being so reasonable and taciturn. Jackie gets angry so rarely but when she does, she gets angry like her mother, and she hates it. She remembers fighting like this with her mom in high school, fists balled by her sides as they both yelled and cried. Now her mother is an entire country away and can’t look her in the eye when they see each other, and Jackie is here, standing in her office, trying to bait her best friend into an argument. Her shoulders slump.

“I’m going home,” she says quietly. She wants her cat and to not look at another person for at least the rest of the day.

“I think that’s a good idea.” Nicky is as calm as ever, and soon, hopefully, Jackie will find it in herself to apologise, and thank her. But that won’t be today, and they both know it.

“Okay,” Jackie says. She grabs her bag and leaves.

Because the universe is apparently kicking Jackie while she’s down, she runs into Jan on the way out of the centre. “Oh, hey,” Jan says, smiling in that same absent way that she did the other day on the stairs. “I was just dropping my keys off for Yvie, she’s covering my morning class tomorrow too, so that way she can open up if she gets here before you guys.”

“What’s going on?” Jackie says matter-of-factly, and Jan falters.

“I— what?” Jan is watching her nervously, hands tight at the straps of her bag, and Jackie hates herself for being someone who makes Jan falter. Jan doesn’t deserve this.

“I know I fucked up with the candle thing, and if you don’t want to see me anymore that’s fine, but you have to come to work, Jan, you can’t just— Yvie can’t cover your classes forever.”

Jan’s eyes are wide. “Jackie, I—”

“No, listen, the centre has to come first, okay? And we can’t lose you, so we can just. Be professional about this, and keep to ourselves, and one day it will be less awkward. But you can’t just not come to work.”

“Jackie, I can’t teach these classes this week, and I’m on a casual contract so I _am_ free to arrange cover if I can’t make a class, which is what I did.” Jan looks like she’s about ten seconds away from crying. Jackie can’t stand herself today. She thinks that maybe this would hurt less if they were actually breaking up, instead of having to deal with the ending of something that never quite took off.

“I can’t do this,” she mumbles, “I’m just— I’m gonna go.”

“It’s fine,” Jan cuts in, “I was only dropping these off anyway.” She drops her keys on the bookcase by the door, spins on her heel, and leaves. The door swings widely behind her. The foyer is silent.

Jackie picks up the keys, turns them over in her hands. They have a huge pink starfish keyring linking them together. It’s one of those plastic keyrings with clear gel and sparkles inside. It is very tacky, and it is very Jan. Jackie feels like she’s been punched in the stomach.

She turns around, and Crystal is standing in the doorway of the kitchenette. “Sorry,” she says, before Jackie can speak. “I’ve been fixing the leaky tap.” Jackie assumes she heard it all.

“It’s fine,” Jackie says listlessly. “Can you give these keys to Yvie when she arrives? I need to leave before I ruin my friendship with anyone else today. Seems like I’m on a roll.” Crystal nods, apparently not sure how to answer this level of disclosure from her sort of friend, sort of boss.

Jackie has only been in her apartment long enough to kick her shoes off, put the kettle on, and give Mabel a long, self-pitying cuddle, when there’s a knock at her door. Expecting Nicky, she shuffles over to the door, cracks it open, and is met with Crystal looking apprehensive.

“Was there a problem with the keys?” Crystal twists the end of her patterned shirt in her hands.

“No, and I shouldn’t be telling you this, but— please just go easy on Jan.”

Jackie sighs. “I know I fucked up today, okay. Things will be weird for a bit but if she doesn’t want to see me, then that’s fine. I can get used to it. We just need to—”

“She didn’t get the scholarship.”

Jackie blinks. “She _what_? But it was only last week, don’t these things usually take forever to be decided?”

Crystal looks crestfallen. “No, they already knew. They told her at the interview. The faculty already had another student in mind, apparently, and the open application process was just a formality.” Jackie can’t believe what she’s hearing. They’d prepared for _weeks_ , spent so many hours going over questions and revising her application. The reference Jackie wrote for her was one of the best things she had ever written.

“So she knew—” she trails off, thinking about when she caught Jan on the stairs the afternoon on her interview. Jan had been so evasive, trying to avoid any talk about her interview. Jackie thought it had been because of the candle. She made it all about her.“Oh my god.”

“Yeah.” Crystal smiles sadly. “She was embarrassed to tell you, I think. She didn’t want you to think she was a failure. I don’t know how she will take me telling you this now, but honestly, things can’t really get much worse for you guys. I thought you needed to know.”

“Okay,” says Jackie dumbly, “I just— okay.” She says goodbye to Crystal, shuts the door, and leans against it. Mabel has started to wriggle in her arms, annoyed she’s not getting patted, and Jackie lets her down. “I fucked up,” she tells her, “I really fucked up, and I don’t know how to fix it.” Mabel nips at her bare foot. She absolutely deserves that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That was HARD. Thanks for sticking with me folks. & I've remade my Tumblr so come say hi at lilacsoft please, I love writing about these gals so much.


	5. Spring

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It feels like Jackie can finally see clearly after months of being in the dark. Jan is so close that her hair is tickling Jackie’s bare shoulder. Outside the street is still, only the beginnings of the day’s light easing through the grimy window. Jackie’s heart is pounding, but she knows what Jan is asking, and she isn’t afraid.

Jan takes the week off and goes to stay with one of her brothers. It’s good for her to get out of the city, Jackie tells herself listlessly, lying on her sofa with Mabel sat on her chest. She spends a lot of her downtime like this, her world narrowing to working and spending quality time with her cat while she licks her wounds. “Licking her wounds” mainly consists of pulling out a box of her stuff from college she hasn’t looked at in ages, thumbing through her dogeared copy of _Rubyfruit Jungle_ and listening to _Disintegration_ all the way through on repeat until she can’t stand it anymore. Her apartment is quiet once she turns it off, and she almost wishes she had caved all those times Nicky had nagged her about buying a television, just so she would have something to fill the empty space.

As soon as she had gone into work the day after their fight, Jackie had pulled Nicky into the kitchenette. “I’m sorry,” she said honestly, wringing her hands in the hem of her sweater. “I was completely out of line, Nicky. I’m so sorry.”

Nicky folded her arms over her chest and sighed. “I forgive you, obviously. But it makes me sad how hard you make things for yourself sometimes, Jac.”

“It makes me sad, too,” Jackie admits, and the look on her face must have been truly pathetic, because Nicky wrapped her arms around her and squeezed, giving her a firm kiss on the head.

“It’ll be okay,” she murmured, and Jackie closed her eyes, pressing her face into Nicky’s overpriced jacket and tried to will herself into believing that it would be.

She and Jan don’t speak, because why would they? Jackie isn’t going to bother her while she is with her family, and with the way they left things, Jan certainly isn’t going to contact her. But Nicky seems to think they will be able to work it out, and try as she might Jackie just can’t seem to shake that tiny sliver of hope. On the fifth day Jan’s gone, she runs into Crystal carrying a tin of paint coming into the foyer.

“Please tell me if this is inappropriate,” Jackie is saying before she can stop herself, “but if I give you a note, would you give it to Jan for me when she’s back?”

A beautiful smile breaks across Crystal’s face. “Only if it’s nice,” she says, all shiny teeth and dimples, and Jackie laughs genuinely for the first time in days.

“I’ll do my best,” she promises.

The thing is, Jackie loves communication. She prides herself as being an excellent communicator with her staff, with stakeholders, with every member of the community who walks through her doors. But Jackie files that ability under being “professional”, which somehow doesn’t mean she can apply it to her personal life as readily. She doesn’t have to pay a therapist a hundred bucks an hour to find out why, she knows exactly why: a lonely childhood, a mother who didn’t know what to do with her, some good old internalised lesbophobia. She was able to thrive in her academic and professional pursuits because it was a way of deflecting from her personal insecurities, while remaining buttoned up in her personal life. It comes down to Jackie being terrified of showing any vulnerability. She knows this, Nicky knows this, which is why she knows she was forgiven so readily by her best friend. But knowing all of this doesn’t _excuse_ her behaviour. She is twenty-nine. She is determined to do better. And Jan is the best reason she is ever going to have.

She tells Nicky all of this in their office, eyes wide and serious as she rocks back and forth in her swivel chair, and Nicky nods along. “I think that all sounds good,” she says, reaching over to give Jackie’s knee a rub. “You are very annoyingly self aware. Now, stop stalling, and write that letter.”

It feels too close to the scene of where everything went wrong to write it at the centre, so Jackie bundles up in her coat and walks to the park. It’s almost spring, and still so cold but the skies are getting bluer and brighter. She picks a bench and sits in the weak end-of-winter sunlight, closing her eyes and tilting her head back for just a moment to appreciate the sun. Then she pulls her notebook out, and starts to write.

_Jan,_

_I don’t know if I can make this better, but what we have is important enough for me to try. You probably know already by now, but Crystal told me about your interview. I am so, so sorry, Jan, for what happened to you, but also for behaving like I did. I am fully aware that at my worst I can be blinkered and reactionary, and that’s how I acted, when all you deserve is the kindness that you have always shown to me._

_Listen, I don’t want to make this about me - let me know when you’re back in the city if you want to talk. If not, I totally understand and respect that. But if you do want to talk, I’m ready whenever you are. I’m not scared anymore._

_All my love,_

_Jackie_

She only lets herself read over once, and then folds it into half, and then half again. On her walk back to the centre, she breathes in the chilly air and feels like a weight has been lifted from her shoulders.

“Here,” she says when she finds Crystal, who takes the letter and tucks it into the front pocket of her pink boiler suit.

“I won’t read it,” Crystal promises, and Jackie shrugs.

“I don’t mind, it’s nothing secret or bad.” It’s dizzying, feeling this unencumbered. She hopes it sticks around.

-

Jan appears at Jackie’s door on a drizzly evening in early March. “Sorry I didn’t ring ahead,” she says, as if it’s only just occurred to her that phoning ahead was an option. “Are you busy?” Her hair is slightly damp, and the tiny fair hairs that frame her face are starting to curl.

“Not busy at all, come in.” She can’t believe Jan is here, right in front of her, slipping her coat off and bending to rub Mabel behind her comically large ears. “Have you been back long?”

Jan glances up at her from where she is crouched on the ground next to Mabel. “Not long at all. I got back to my apartment, saw your note, and came straight over here.”

 _Your note._ Jackie swallows thickly, and runs a nervous hand through her hair. Surely it’s got to be a good thing that Jan is here. She must want some kind of resolution, otherwise she wouldn’t have rushed over here as soon as she got back from Jersey. “It was good of Crystal to take it back to yours.”

“She’s the best,” Jan says quietly, and much to Mabel’s dismay, she stands up. “I’m not mad at her, by the way. For telling you. She did the right thing.”

“I’m so glad. Crystal talking to me really helped me pull my head out of my ass.” Jan snorts, an almost-smile flickering across her lips. “Do you, uh. Want tea or coffee or anything?”

“Tea would be great,” Jan says gratefully, and she curls herself in the corner of Jackie’s sofa while she makes it. There’s silence between them, but it doesn’t feel unbearable. It’s a bit awkward, though not excruciating. That’s something Jackie can definitely live with. When she brings two steaming mugs over, setting them down on the coffee table, Jan is sat sideways, knees pulled into her chest and Mabel curled on her now bare feet. Jackie sits down on the other end of the sofa, legs crossed and facing her but conscious of leaving a substantial gap between them.

“I’m sorry,” Jackie says, and it’s wrenched straight from her heart. “Jan, I am so, so sorry.” Jan’s lower lip starts to give, and Jackie watches as she bites down on it hard. She itches to reach out, close the distance between them and thumb her soft lip from her teeth. Wrap her arms around her and tell her it’s okay to cry. But it’s not her place, this isn’t about her. This is about Jan, and Jackie will wait until it’s absolutely clear what Jan wants out of this situation. She refuses to make the same mistake twice.

“I should have told you about the interview.” Jan’s voice is strained, wobbling as she speaks. “I know I made everything worse by not telling you, but I just— I was so humiliated, Jackie.” She folds in on herself, face pressed into her knees. Her long hair pools forward, and when she sits up to push it out of her eyes, her cheeks are tracked glossy with tears. Silently, Jackie leans forward, careful not to touch her, and offers the hairband that lives permanently on her wrist. For years Jackie has kept her hair in a utilitarian crop above the shoulders, but despite the short length her hair is perpetually thick and unmanageable, so hair ties are still a constant feature of her daily existence. Jan takes it, murmuring a “Thanks,” and starts to split her hair into three, methodically working it into a loose side plait. Jackie knows that the mindless, repetitive task will soothe her. She leans her head against the back of the sofa, and gives Jan space to speak again when she’s ready.

It takes a few minutes. “They let me do the interview, you know,” she says quietly, her voice a little steadier as she fiddles with the end of her braid. Jackie’s jaw drops.

“They _what_? But they already knew they were giving it to someone else.”

Jan gives a pained smile. “They let me do the whole interview, then told me at the end it was _good experience_ for me to go through the interview. That they would keep me in mind for future opportunities.”

Jackie is furious. “That is so fucking patronising, Christ. I’m sorry, Jan, I assumed you’d found out before the interview.” Jan hums quietly, obviously working through something in her head, and rubs at her eyes again. Any makeup she was wearing earlier is long gone.

“I don’t know,” she says, and she sounds exhausted. “At first I was so ashamed that I wished I hadn’t gone for it, or at least they’d told me when I got there, you know. I was so embarrassed that I had gone so hard in the interview for nothing. But the more I think about it, I did a damn good interview. My application was perfect. Like, I don’t think there is anything I could have done better, except be the girl they had already chosen for it. And I can’t do that, so.” Her hand finds the end of her braid again, winding it around her fingers, and she smiles tiredly across at Jackie. “I think it’s wrong what they did, but on the other hand, I know I did really good. I want to focus on that, feeling proud of myself, instead of being pissed with them, or upset over something I can’t change.”

Jackie cannot wrap her head around how inherently good Jan is. In her twenty nine years she has never before met anybody else who even comes close to how _good_ Jan is, deep down. She feels warmth spreading from her chest to her fingers and the ends of her toes, and slowly, she smiles back at Jan. “You should be proud,” she whispers, and tentatively she holds her hand out between them. Jan takes it without hesitation, and when their hands slot together finally, after weeks of not touching, it feels _right_. “I am so proud of you.”

Jan’s eyes turn soft and damp again. “Really?”

Jackie squeezes her hand. “Really.” There’s something settling over them that makes the air feel electric, makes everything feel unreal except for the two of them, and Jackie is desperate to lean into it. But it’s so soon still, Jan’s tears haven’t even dried, and she doesn’t want anything more between them to be born out of an apology. It will happen, she reminds herself. Mabel leans up to butt her head against their joined hands, and both women laugh.

“Are you hungry?” Jackie asks. Jan grins, and that’s how they end up making vegetarian chilli together, Jan chopping mushrooms and onions very poorly and Jackie cracking the lids on tinned lentils because there’s no way she’s waiting to soak the dried ones she has in her pantry. While Jackie picks a bottle of wine, Jan flips through her music collection, gently teasing her well-loved copies of _Tapestry_ and _Wish._

“I won’t be mocked for my incredibly diverse taste in music,” Jackie says, struggling to keep a straight face, and Jan sticks her tongue out at her. She eventually chooses _If You’re Feeling Sinister,_ bopping her head along adorably as she spoons chilli into her bowl. An easy camaraderie has fallen back into place between them, and Jackie knew she had missed it, but didn’t realise how much until Jan laughs, loud and unencumbered, at something Jackie says, and Jackie’s heart clenches.

“You’re like, a textbook oldest child,” Jan says, pointing her fork accusingly at Jackie.

“What! How?”

“Responsible, good at managing people, sensible,” Jan ticks off on her fingers, and Jackie rolls her eyes.

“God, you’re making me sound so boring.”

“You’re not boring!” Jan insists, laughing, “you’re also very compassionate and patient. All excellent traits. The best, in fact. Being the baby of eight was fun but I think oldest children are better set up for life in a lot of ways.”

“I think you do pretty good,” Jan tells her, and Jan blushes. “What are stereotypical youngest sibling traits?”

“Being a brat,” Jan jokes, taking a bite of chilli, and Jackie snorts. They make it through the better part of a bottle of wine, dumping their dishes in the sink and moving back to the sofa when they’re finished with dinner. Mabel sprawls herself over Jan’s lap, apparently delighted to have her favourite person back in the apartment. It’s gone ten when Jackie notices Jan’s eyelids starting to get heavy, her head resting against the back of the sofa for a little too long.

“Hey,” she says, leaning across to touch Jan’s knee softly. Jan looks up at her with wide, sleepy eyes. “Do you want to crash here?”

She’s met with a tired smile. “Yeah, that would be good,” Jan says gratefully. Jackie lets her feed Mabel, knowing they’ll both enjoy it even though it’s just the simple task of emptying kibble into her bowl, and by the time she gets out of the shower, Jan is already tucked into bed, eyes shut. She opens them when Jackie gets in, rolling onto her side so they are facing one another.

“Thank you for letting me stay,” Jan whispers, and her voice is slow and sleepy already. Jackie knows it won’t be long until she’s out for the night. “I’m so glad we’re okay.”

Jackie shifts her hand across the mattress to take Jan’s, who grips it tightly, even in her half-asleep state. “Me too,” she replies. She wants so badly to say more, but now it’s not the time. Jan is barely conscious. _Wait_ , she tells herself. Mabel chooses that moment to jump up onto the bed with a soft _thump_ , and ungainly totters up the mattress, settling with her face pressed against Jan’s stomach and her tail brushing Jackie’s.

“She’s so good,” murmurs Jan, eyes closed, and Jackie’s big gay heart is in her mouth as she presses a kiss to Jan’s knuckles. Jan makes a sleepy noise and half-smiles. “You’re also good.”

“That’s a very dykey thing to say,” Jackie whispers, and kisses her knuckles again before settling down to sleep. She feels so safe, cradling Jan’s willing hand warm and close against her chest. “Sleep well Jan.”

-

When Jackie opens her eyes the sky outside her window is edging its way into dawn, and Jan is stirring beside her. She realises far too late that she forgot to close the curtains last night so the room will just get lighter from this point, but she is so warm and comfortable that the thought of leaving this tiny, safe world of her and Jan (and Mabel, asleep at their feet now) is unbearable.

Jan shifts again, and unthinkingly, brain still foggy with sleep, Jackie reaches out to smooth a hand over her arm, from shoulder to elbow, to soothe her. Her eyelids flutter, then open. “Morning,” she croaks, rolling onto her side to face Jackie. There are faint lines on her face from the pillow, and her hair has come undone from its braid overnight, spilling messily around her head. She is so beautiful.

“Morning, Jannifer,” Jackie whispers, not wanting to speak too loudly in case she shatters this quiet, vulnerable moment. Jan rubs at her eyes with an uncoordinated hand, blinking slowly. Whereas Jackie is always relatively awake immediately, Jan takes much longer to come to terms with the world each morning, the definitions between sleep and waking blurred. “Did you sleep well?”

“So well,” Jan smiles, and in the blueish early morning light, sun barely risen, Jackie can only just make out the soft pull of her mouth, the crinkle of her sleepy eyes. In this light her hair shines almost white. She must be cold because she wriggles closer until her feet bump up against Jackie’s shins.

“Icy feet,” Jackie can’t help saying, and Jan huffs a quiet laugh.

“Sorry, my feet are always the coldest part of me.” It feels so easy to shift closer herself, bracketing Jan’s hands with her own. Whatever they are doing now feels good, natural. Safe. She isn’t overthinking what her body is doing, or what Jan might be thinking, or what any of this could mean. Instead Jackie focusses on the swell of Jan’s lower lip so close, the brush of her cold toes against Jackie’s leg.

“Can I ask you something?” Jan says suddenly. Jackie rubs a thumb slowly over Jan’s knuckles, back and forth.

“Of course, anything.”

“Did you mean it,” Jan says slowly, her voice still edged with drowsiness, “Jackie, did you mean it when you said you weren’t scared anymore?”

It feels like Jackie can finally see clearly after months of being in the dark. Jan is so close that her hair is tickling Jackie’s bare shoulder. Outside the street is still, only the beginnings of the day’s light easing through the grimy window. Jackie’s heart is pounding, but she knows what Jan is asking, and she isn’t afraid.

“I meant it,” she whispers. The silence is thick around them as Jan watches her, and Jackie counts to five in her head before Jan leans in and kisses her. Jackie’s heart surges in her chest, and for half a second, she feels paralysed. Then Jan makes a tentative noise against her mouth, the slightest exhale, and Jackie is back, and it’s _perfect_. She isn’t going to pretend she hasn’t thought about Jan’s mouth countless times over the last six months, but it is so much softer than she imagined. When Jackie untangles one of her hands to cradle the base of Jan’s head, fingers rubbing tiny circles into her scalp, Jan makes that same tiny, broken noise again, and Jackie thinks she might die.

She breaks away, just far enough to smile, and rests their noses together. Up this close Jan is blurry to look at, but she can feel the pant of her breath and the pull of her grin. “Okay?” Jackie asks, needing verbal confirmation even though everything seems pretty fucking okay. She threads her fingers through Jan’s hair, and Jan laughs so quietly, kissing the corner of Jackie’s mouth.

“So okay, Jackie, you have no idea, oh my God.” Jackie’s cheeks hurt from smiling, but Jan is on a roll now, laughing and kissing the corners of her mouth over and over, and Jackie can’t help herself.

“I think I have some idea,” she says when she is capable of speech again, and Jan stops kissing her to throw her head back and laugh properly. It’s the most beautiful thing Jackie has ever heard.

They are in unspoken agreement to take things slowly. It doesn’t take long for Mabel to slink up the bed, insulted that they are giving each other more attention than they are devoting to her. Not long after that Jackie gets up to make coffee. She listens to Jan talking to the cat, then listens to her singing in the shower, and her heart feels full. When she emerges wearing a purple sweater of Jackie’s, hair wrapped in a towel, she takes the offered mug and tugs Jackie in for a kiss as thank you.

“So, we’re doing this?” Jackie asks as Jan pulls away, her palm still flat over Jackie’s chest. She wonders if Jan can feel her heart beating through the flannelette.

Jan smiles, slow and easy and beautiful. “Well, I think it’s about time, don’t you?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter we stan self-reflection, communication, and personal growth. Also for some reason this chapter was the hardest for me to write so far and the one I'm least confident with, so hopefully it still works for you lot! 
> 
> "Disintegration" and "Wish" are both albums by The Cure (idk why I'm into college dyke Jackie in the late 80s/early 90s being super keen on The Cure but I am), "Tapestry" is the iconic Carole King album, and "If You're Feeling Sinister" would've been the most recent Belle and Sebastian album in early 97. 
> 
> There'll either be one or two more chapters to this, it depends. I'm actually really sad to be wrapping this world up though, so maybe I'll cave and keep writing. I love these gals so much. If you wanna talk about them or ask anything feel free to hit me up on tumblr, I'm lilacsoft there too!


	6. Summer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The soft press of Jan’s thumb against her anklebone grounds her, and when she properly looks at her, Jan’s chin is lifted slightly, her gaze steady and patient and so, so brave. My brave girl, Jackie thinks, and it tears through her like a bullet train, like a tornado, like Mabel the one time Jan gave her catnip and they hurt their sides laughing as Mabel flung herself around the apartment. Jackie loves her more than anything on this earth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we go angels, last chapter. Thanks for sticking with me. More notes at the end.

In the hottest week they have had that year so far, Jackie’s aircon dies. Of course it does. Crystal swears up and down she can fix it, “please, please do not pay out all that money for a new one when I can easily fix it in an afternoon.” The catch is that she’s upstate for the week, so the repairs have to wait until she’s back.

“Just stay at mine,” Jan says, shrugging, and it’s an easy enough solution at the time. But the thought of having to get the subway to and from work during a heatwave is too much for either of them to stomach. Jackie’s been spoiled by living thirty steps from her place of work at all times, and she would apparently rather sweat it out in her shoebox of an apartment for a week than have to deal with the subway. The aircon at Jan’s apartment isn’t great, and apparently the trade-off isn’t worth it, because she’s at Jackie’s every night that week. They spend long, dizzy evenings sprawled in their underwear on Jackie’s sofa or bed with the curtains drawn to keep the late afternoon heat out. The cheap pedestal fan Jackie hauled up from the centre to whirs constantly in the background, with Jan getting up every now and then to change the music, groaning dramatically each time as her thighs unstick from one another in the heat. In the dim golden light Jackie feels like she’s watching Jan through a haze, her long hair swaying as she shifts her weight back and forth, shuffling through Jackie’s CD collection.

“I should’ve brought some of my CDs,” Jan complains, and her voice sounds like it’s coming from a million miles away from where Jackie is reclined on the sofa, one arm hanging over the edge to let her fingertips skate against the floorboards. Jan’s skin has deepened several shades from the sun already which was a welcome surprise for Jackie, who for some reason assumed the other woman would burn pink instead of the rich earthy gold she’s looking at now as she unashamedly stares at Jan’s bare legs.

“Sorry,” Jackie says offhandedly, obviously not sorry at all. “Hurry up and pick something.” Jan turns her head around to stick her tongue out at her, her hair swinging over her exposed shoulders. Jackie has never bothered much with bras unless she is exercising, but Jan complains her breasts are too big to comfortably go without support, and so she’s wearing matching canary yellow underwear and bralette in a delicate cotton that Jackie knows feels impossibly soft to touch. The fabric is light enough that Jackie can see the faint shadow of her pubic hair through it, which is incredibly distracting. Jackie feels drunk just looking at her. When she manages to look back up to Jan’s face, the woman is grinning, eyebrows raised. Jackie can’t quite find it in her to be embarrassed. “Hurry up,” she says again, more plaintively, and Jan laughs.

She puts on a Cat Power that Jackie hasn’t listened to since the fall and then turns, sauntering back to the sofa. With the swing of her hips and healthy golden sheen of her skin and hair she looks like some kind of nineteen-sixties Malibu dyke dreamboat. “I didn’t pick you for a Cat Power fan,” she murmurs, keeping very still as Jan starts to manoeuvre herself back onto the sofa, positioning one knee on either side of her and wriggling her way up. Once she gets to Jackie’s pelvis she stops, and Jackie can’t help herself, settling her hands on Jan’s hipbones. There are slight red indentations where the elastic of her underwear has dug in, and she rubs slow, steady circles with her thumbs along the marks. Jan makes a low, happy noise in the back of her throat and leans forward until their faces are less than six inches apart. Her hair spills down around them, reducing Jackie’s entire field of vision to Jan. “Feels like some kind of decadent curtain,” Jackie continues. Jan laughs in that throaty, secret way she does now when it’s just the two of them, and Jackie is obsessed with it. She leans down and kisses Jackie open-mouthed, filthy, then pulls back to sit up.

“It’s so annoying in the summer,” she groans, and starts to wind her into a bun with one hand, scrabbling at Jackie’s wrist for her hairband with the other. Jackie lets her, the heat sapped all action from her body and mouth still burning from her kisses. “It gets so heavy and sweaty. Thinking about shaving it all off.”

“Nooo,” Jackie protests weakly, watching as Jan reaches both arms above her head to fasten the hair tie. Stretched out like this above her it’s obvious how athletic she is, all lean muscle until she’s not: strong arms and thighs giving way to the gentle swell of her breasts and hips. The downy hair at her armpits matches a trail between her navel and the top of her underwear, and Jackie thinks it is excellent. When they first started sleeping together Jan had been uncharacteristically self-conscious about her body hair. It had taken a little time and Jackie delivering murmured soliloquies of compliments from between Jan’s thighs, with Jan alternately giggling and moaning, for Jan to relax into it. She now treats her body with the same easy confidence with which she treats every other aspect of her life.

With her hair safely knotted on top of her head, Jan curls back over her, dropping frustratingly light kisses over her forehead and down her nose. “You’re such a hypocrite,” she says, grinning through her kisses, and runs an eager hand through Jackie’s shorter curls. At the start of the summer, as soon as the days started to draw impossibly into the evenings and heat began seeping into Jackie’s apartment walls, she had done her summer ritual of cropping her hair shorter than normal, the ends of her curls resting loosely against the base of her skull. It’s out of necessity, really - she had spent years aching to do it in high school, the weight of her heavy curls driving her up the wall in hot weather, and she’s done it every year since she got to college. This year Jan had been there, perched on the bathroom counter being adorable and irritating until Jackie offered her the scissors with a raised eyebrow. It took a fair few more minutes of Samson and Delilah jokes for Jan to shut up and take the scissors, and she’d been quiet after then, humming softly as she snipped. Afterwards, Jackie ran her fingers through her shorter curls, shaking all the loose hairs out, and caught Jan’s gaze in the mirror - blown pupils, bitten lips, scissors dangling forgotten from her fingers.

“Baby?” Jackie had asked, a careful tease to her question, and Jan flushed, shoving the scissors onto the counter to press her soft body up against Jackie’s, running her hands through Jackie’s curls and kissing her until they were both breathless.

Now, Jan kisses her once more, then peels herself back, leaving Jackie flushed and huffing. “I need to ask you something,” she breathes, and she’s smiling but looks a little apprehensive. Jackie clears her throat and nods, blinks furiously in an attempt to clear the haze from her mind. Her entire world feels like it’s narrowed to the apex of Jan’s legs, searing heat pressed where her thighs are splayed over Jackie’s bare stomach.

“Go for it,” Jackie says weakly, and Jan laughs. She doesn’t make any attempts to move, so Jackie figures whatever it is Jan wants to talk about, it can’t be that bad.

“I really love us,” Jan says after a moment, and she smoothes her palms from Jackie’s stomach up to her ribcage, fingers splayed just beneath the slight swell of Jackie’s breasts. “And I’ve had so much fun the last couple of months, really…”

Jackie’s ears suddenly fill with the roar of white noise. Is this really it? Is Jan really breaking up with her, almost naked in a heatwave while she’s straddling her waist? She’s still talking but Jackie can’t hear, the thudding of her heart pounding in her head.

“Jac, hey,” Jan is murmuring, thumbing gently at her bottom lip, and Jackie snaps back to reality. “Where did you go?”

“Sorry,” Jackie says hoarsely, and shifts, feeling too exposed. “Can we— I need to sit up.”

“Of course.” Jan swings her leg up and over so she’s perched on the edge of the sofa cushion, and even in the stickiness of summer, Jackie misses her warmth immediately. Jan’s watching her carefully, her beautiful forehead furrowed into a slight frown, and Jackie hates herself a little for causing her concern. She folds her arms over her bare chest, curling her knees up to her middle. “We don’t have to talk now,” Jan says slowly, fiddling with the seam of the sofa cushion, and Jackie knows if her hair was down she’d be wrapping the ends around her fingers.

Jackie swallows and clenches her jaw. “No, no. Sorry. What were you saying?” Her dumb heart is still kicking off in her chest, but she wills herself to ignore it.

Jan flattens her hands against her knees, staring down at them for a moment, and Jackie watches the slow rise and fall of her shoulders as she breathes in and out. There is a small freckle at the jut of her left wrist, nestled just beneath the delicate bone, and Jackie wants to kiss it so badly.

“Well, I just think it’s time we talk about what’s happening,” Jan says eventually, and brave as ever, turns her face up to meet Jackie’s gaze. “If you want to keep going as we are, what it means, you know… that kind of stuff. I think talking about it is important.”

“Oh.” Jackie relaxes a little, her legs sliding down from her chest to cross loosely in front of her. Communication is great, she reminds herself, and she is so lucky that Jan is someone who can directly prioritise it without freaking out. And that Jan is patient with Jackie when she ties herself in knots over it. “Yeah, that sounds like a good conversation to have.”

Jan smiles. “Great. I’ve just been in situations before where I’ve been messing around with a girl for a bit, but I, well. Get too deep when what she wants is just fun. Or she’s not out, so it’s a whole thing. You know.”

“Well, you don’t have to worry about that with me,” Jackie says dryly, “God forbid you _out_ me, Jan. What will our friends say.”

“Oh my god.” Jan is giggling, reaching across to prod her fingers into Jackie’s side where she’s sensitive, and Jackie lets out an undignified squawk. “Here I am trying to tell you that I’m in love with you, and you’re making _jokes_.”

Jackie freezes. “What?” Jan is still smiling, but she’s looking nervous again, her hand settling on Jackie’s crossed ankles like she’s calming a bird who is at risk of taking flight.

“I said,” she repeats quietly, “that I’m in love with you.” The golden light of the day is starting to fade, the streetlights outside the window illuminating the room in a silvery glow. Somewhere in the distant reaches of her brain, Jackie thinks they ought to turn a lamp on, but Jan is beautiful in the shadows and perpetual un-dark of Brooklyn nighttime. The soft press of Jan’s thumb against her anklebone grounds her, and when she properly looks at her, Jan’s chin is lifted slightly, her gaze steady and patient and so, so brave. _My brave girl_ , Jackie thinks, and it tears through her like a bullet train, like a tornado, like Mabel the one time Jan gave her catnip and they hurt their sides laughing as Mabel flung herself around the apartment. Jackie loves her more than anything on this earth.

She reaches forward, and carefully covers Jan’s hand with her own. “I love you too,” she whispers, the words honeyed and achingly heavy in her mouth.

Jan beams, her eyes shiny and Jackie realises it’s from unshed tears. “I know,” she says, and Jackie lets out a startled laugh.

“What? What does that mean? You _know_?” Jan lets out a peal of laughter, and lets go of her ankle, kneeling in front of Jackie so her knees are pressed against her crossed legs.

“I mean I know, Jackie, and I also knew you were never gonna say it first.”

“Rude,” Jackie says, but there’s no malice in it, staying very still as Jan traces her hands over her wrists, elbows, shoulders, down to skim a fingertip over a nipple. Jackie sucks in a sharp breath, and Jan looks at her like she is something precious. It makes her heart clench.

“Is it too out of order now if I ask if we are girlfriends?” Jan murmurs, flattening her palm to gently cup the underside of Jackie’s breast. Jackie’s hands scrabble at her hips, thumbing under the band of her underwear to pull her closer and Jan acquiesces, bracketing her strong thighs around Jackie’s waist. Once again the damp heat of Jan’s cunt presses insistently through her underwear against Jackie’s stomach, and she wants to die.

“Only because I’m asking first,” Jackie says, head tilted back as Jan mouths the line of her throat. She fumbles with the hook and eye function of Jan’s bra, desperately needing to feel skin on skin, and as the clasp opens and her bra slips from her shoulders, Jan lets out a small cry that Jackie feels against her throat and between her legs. Christ, she is so fucking lucky. “Will you be my girlfriend, Jannifer?”

“Yes,” Jan says immediately, her voice higher than normal, hips canting insistently as she tilts her head to kiss Jackie properly. The sensation of their breasts pushed together with Jan’s hips making constant minute movements in her lap is excruciating, and Jackie lets her girlfriend cradle her head in her careful, loving hands.

There’s a plaintive mewl from the floor, and reluctantly Jan pulls away. “Your child calls,” she breathes, her chest heaving, and Jackie manages to pry her eyes away from her girlfriend (her _girlfriend!_ ) to see Mabel, crossly sat in the middle of the living room rug. She yowls again, and Jackie sighs.

“She’s hungry,” she murmurs, kissing at Jan’s shoulder, who laughs softly.

“Feed her,” Jan instructs quietly, combing her hands through Jackie’s curls, “and then you can take me to bed. Deal?”

“Deal,” Jackie answers immediately, and it’s the easiest thing she’s ever said.

-

Jackie always loves Pride, but this year her heart feels especially soft for it. The week before the parade a bunch of them walk over to the archives after the centre has closed, Nicky falling into step alongside Jackie, and Jan looping her arm into Crystal’s and skipping ahead, their laughter spiralling over the traffic. The long drawn out evenings make things seem more possible, less hard. Jackie can’t remember the last time she felt this relaxed. Their school vacation programmes are all set up, Crystal and Yvie are working on a mural for the top floor studio, and Jackie is finally taking the time to organise their office with only minimal grumbling from Nicky. It doesn’t hurt that almost every night she has Jan to come home to, wrapping her in her arms and kissing her silly. All her life Jackie has, in some way, felt like she has been atoning for something. Now, she realises, it doesn’t have to be like that.

“Happiness looks good on you,” Nicky says beside her, and she only gets away with saying something so cheesy because it sounds so _French_ in her mouth. Jackie sticks out her tongue, but reaches over and squeezes Nicky’s hand.

“What, you gay or something?” Jan hollers from up ahead, and when Jackie gives her the finger, she shrieks with laughter.

By the time they get to the archives, there are huge sheets of calico spread out across the table in the main room, and a bunch of women are already busy with paintbrushes and pencils, sketching and painting or just standing on the sidelines with mugs of sangria. “Happy almost Pride!” Bob yells when she spots them, beckoning them in and greeting each of them with a hug. In past years Jackie has sometimes marched in the parade with the cohort from the archives. This year she will just be cheering from the sidelines, but she still never misses a banner painting night.

It’s the first time Jan has been into the archives, and Jackie loves watching her wide eyes, slightly open mouth as she takes it all in. “All good?” she murmurs, handing her a paintbrush. Jan turns to look at her with shining eyes.

“ _So_ good,” she says thickly, and slings her arm around Jackie’s shoulder, pressing a kiss to the corner of her mouth. “I love this. I love being a lesbian. I love you.” Something in Jackie’s chest blooms, small and quiet and joyous, every time she hears Jan say that. She still can’t figure out how she got quite so lucky.

“I love you too,” she whispers, and ducks their foreheads together just for a moment. “Now, let’s get to work.”

-

It’s not quite six in the evening, and Jackie is drunk in that special Pride way - she feels hazy and warm, tilting her head back with her eyes shut to feel the afternoon sun beat down on her face.

“You good, Jac?” she hears Nicky ask, laughing, and before she can answer she feels familiar arms slide around her waist. Jan fits her body against Jackie’s back, hands slipping up under Jackie’s shirt to settle over her stomach.

“Steady there, sweetheart,” Jan says close to her ear, and Jackie makes a pleased noise, leaning back into her girlfriend. “What are you drinking?” Jackie can’t actually remember. She opens her eyes hazily, squinting at the glass. They’ve spilled out onto the pavement of Henrietta Hudson, drinks in hand, and everywhere Jackie can see are people laughing, hugging, dancing. Somewhere in the distance she hears the start of a Belinda Carlisle song, and a following cheer.

“Vodka cranberry maybe? It was Crystal’s.” Crystal had abandoned their group a little earlier, pressing her half-drunk glass into Jackie’s hands and being led away by a tall girl in cut-off dungarees and a sports bra. Jackie didn’t quite catch her name but she’s one of Bob’s cohort, and she’d looked too cool for all of them until Jackie had seen her burst into peals of goofy, childlike laughter, and she knew Crystal was in good hands.

Jan hums, and much to Jackie’s displeasure slides her hands out from under Jackie’s shirt, squeezing in between where Jackie and Nicky are stood. “Give me a sip,” she requests, holding her hair back from her face while she bends to sip from the straw. She’s gotten sunburned, her bare shoulders flushed pink, and Jackie can’t help but brush a kiss across the one closest to her.

“I have some aloe gel at my apartment,” she says absently, “remind me later.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll be whinging enough later about them it’ll be hard to forget about it,” Jan grins, and helps herself to another sip. “This is truly so, so sweet, Jackie, I don’t know how you’re managing.”

Nicky, who has been focussing on rolling a cigarette and making eyes at a girl across from them, laughs. “I have a theory that Jackie actually loves sweet things, she just pretends not to because it doesn’t fit her personal brand.” 

“Not true, oh my god,” Jackie protests, but Jan is laughing hysterically, clapping her hands together.

“I buy it, I think you’re onto something Nicky. Oh, don’t look so put out baby,” Jan teases, kissing Jackie’s cheek and leaving behind vodka cranberry stickiness. “You love me and I’m incredibly sweet.”

“Alright,” Nicky says, dropping her cigarette and grinding the heel of her boot into the concrete. “It’s your right to be adorable on Pride, but I can’t hack it anymore. I’ve got somewhere I need to be.”

Jackie wraps her arms around her friend, squeezing tight. “Happy Pride, Nic,” she tells her, and when she pulls away she prods her on the shoulder. “Make good choices!”

“I always do, babe,” Nicky winks, and leaves them, gravitating across the street to another group of women. While she’s watching Nicky go, Jan swipes her drink, draining the last of it and setting it down by their feet.

“Hey, that was mine,” but Jackie can’t muster actual irritation, too blissed out to actually care. Jan wrinkles her nose and grins in response, swaying close to her again. Her lipstick is long gone, but there’s purple glitter in the corners of her eyes and a smudged Venus symbol drawn on her cheek. Jackie loves her so fiercely she thinks her heart might brim over with it.

Jan is looking at her curiously, rubbing her thumb back and forth along Jackie’s hipbone. “What are you thinking, baby?” she murmurs, so close and quiet in the surrounding ruckus of Pride.

“My heart feels so full when I look at you,” Jackie says without thinking, and she is too tipsy and happy and homosexual to care how naff it sounds. A smile blooms across Jan’s face, soft and beautiful, and she edges in closer to kiss her.

“Jacqueline Cox, you big dyke,” she says, grinning, “happy Pride.”

“Happy Pride,” Jackie says, and leans in to kiss her again. It is a happy Pride.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's the end of it, for now at least. I hope y'all are okay with how it ended!!! I want to write something else for this universe but I have a couple of other ideas kicking around that I need to work on first, prioritising my witchy au that I started last month and then never updated lol. If you liked hearing about the lesbian herstory archives chuck them a follow on instagram or check out their website, they do incredible work. 
> 
> Thanks pals, it's been so so fun. Come talk to me on Tumblr, I'm lilacsoft there too. xoxo


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